School Days
by TMI
Summary: Typical All-human story, with the flock meeting at school yada yada yada.. I just felt like writing one of these, so please give it a try! Max and Ella move to California and Cromwell High. They're instantly thrown into the swirl of new friends, new romance, and most importantly, soccer! But is everything really as normal as it may seem? Fax, Eggy, Gudge. Soccer and pizza involved.
1. Fed up With Lissa Rift

I glared after Fang as he walked away, leaving me alone in front of the park bench. What had just happened? Nobody dumped Lissa Rift and got away with it! I vowed to teach the jerk what he was missing. I hoped his next girlfriend would be ugly, stupid, and smelly, with a bad case of acne and fat legs. And while he was stuck with Miss Awful, I would be dating Mr. Perfect, Mr. Better-than-Fang Rianild.

I had been going out with Fang for two happy months, months filled with kissing and hugging in the hallways, stealing him away from his friends to spend time together, and getting to stare into those deep, dark, sparkling depths he called eyes. It all started in homeroom on the first day of school, when the teacher had sorted seats by alphabetical order. I went through several outfit choices in the days before school started, my first mission obviously to set off a stunning first impression for the new boys in high school. After much deliberation on the incredibly important choice, I finally decided on a blue skirt that hung high on my legs paired with a lacy white tank top hemmed by tiny blue embroidered stars. My wedged white sandals clicked on the linoleum floors as I walked along the hallways, heads turning to watch me as I passed. My glossed pink lips curved in a coy smile at the boys, and they dumbly grinned back. I smiled and greeted a few people as I found my locker tucked away in a corner of some hall, then set off to my first class. I had walked into Room 4B hoping to find some cute guys to snare at the first opportunity. The teacher, a stern brunette in a long gray skirt and a green blouse (yuck!) smiled at me, motioning for me to go stand with the rest of the class near the back of the room.

"I'm going to have assigned seating right away so you people don't get detention for talking during announcements on your first day," she announced, a twinkle in her eyes. I groaned, picking at the miniscule grains of dirt stuck under my French manicure. Her eyes flickered to me for a moment, then back to the front of the class without comment. "Okay, let's begin. Albert, Jacob, sit here. Byloh, Jane here. Drake, Melanie here. DuNelle, Mark, here. Ferms, Jennifer Joy, here…" I tuned out her voice, instead spending my time scoping out the class for hot guys. That Jacob guy was pretty cute, but he had freckles all over his face, which wasn't really my type. Mark DuNelle was also definitely on the cute list, but his ears were too big and sticking-out for my taste.

Then, suddenly: "Rianild, Nick, here." A tall, dark and handsome boy dressed completely in black stepped out of the crowd of kids, no expression visible on his tanned face.

"Excuse me, Miss James, I prefer to be called Fang," he requested, his voice dark and alluring. Half the girls in the class sighed dreamily, while a couple guys shot dark looks at the hawttie. The teacher looked startled by his strange nickname, but nevertheless nodded and smiled at him.

"Of course Ni- Fang. Please take a seat." Obediently, he walked a few steps forward from the back of the class to where she had directed and sat at the assigned desk. Ms. James (apparently that was the teacher's name) continued with the seating. "Rift, Lissa, next to Fang. Songhal, David in front of Lissa. Suli, Judy next to David…" Ms. James' voice once more became background sound as I strutted up the aisle between the desks and triumphantly sat down next to Fang. This was the best assigned seat EVER! Fang turned his head, looked dully at me, and turned back to face the front.

I pouted, never having met with this reaction from a guy before.

"Hey Fang," I whispered to him, making my voice sound seductive. Fang didn't take any notice of me, continuing to look straight ahead. I pouted more. "Fang? What's the matter with you? Why won't you say hello to a pretty girl?" I asked, raising a hand to my face in pretend sadness. He turned and looked straight at me, a single raised eyebrow his only sign of emotion.

"What pretty girl?" he asked. I gasped in shock, and a hint of a smirk sidled onto his face, making him _that much_hawtter. "Oh, did you mean you?" he continued innocently, his dark eyes beautiful and mysterious as I stared into them. "Hello, Lissa Rift. I'm Fang." With that, Fang turned away to face front and didn't spare me a glance for the rest of homeroom. I pouted and whined flirtatiously, trying to get him to look at me again. Although he didn't, I saw the small smirks on his face, and felt positive I had covered ground.

Ms. James turned out to be my least favorite teacher, other than giving me the coveted seat next to Prince of the Hawtties, Fang Rianild. However, that single act of hers turned out to be my best advantage with Fang, since after a few weeks of constant persuasive flirting in and out of that class, he gave in and kissed me. I was in heaven; that guy was a natural kisser! That started us going out, the jealous looks girls gave me, the heavenly kissing Fang presented me with…

Then, today, he just dumped me. For no reason! How fair is that? I didn't do anything wrong!

….other than making out with Iggy Fields. But Iggy was just plain cute! Not a hawttie like Fang! It was a dare, anyway!

…okay, maybe it wasn't a dare. Maybe I kissed Iggy on purpose. But Fang wasn't supposed to know! Iggy promised he wouldn't tell anyone! And now, my two-month relationship was ruined.

I couldn't help myself, I screamed as loud and long as I could. "I HATE YOU FANG RIANILD! HATE! YOU!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs. After awhile, I stopped, feeling satisfied as I watched a few birds fly out of the tops of the trees around me. There's nothing like taking your rage out with a good long scream.

Anyway, I would probably be able to hook up with a new awesome, kissable hawttie by tomorrow. No biggie.

But I still wished Fang was mine.

I grinned, finally free of that idiotic, airheaded slut. Lissa had finally got on my nerves, until not even her shiny green eyes and glowing red waves of hair could save her.

I was so incredibly happy to be rid of her, so relieved I didn't have to put up with her constant whining and sucking kisses all the time. Iggy was a lifesaver of a best friend, orchestrating a way for me to get a plausible reason to break up with Lissa once he realized I was miserable and helpless in knowing how to get rid of her. All he had to do was kiss her, which he enjoyed anyway, since even though he hated Lissa, he loved kissing girls. Iggy always claimed that kissing girls was a hobby for him; at least three quarters of the female eighth graders at our school had made out with Iggy sometime or another, a fact which grossed me out entirely too much.

I had no idea what I'd truly seen in Lissa in the first place. Sure, she was really pretty, with pale skin, pretty eyes, long shining hair in one of my all-time favorite colors, and her coy little smiles. But to her I was just a goal, an accomplishment to go out with. She told me over and over again how amazing my body was, how gorgeous my eyes were, how much she loved to play with my 'long, silky black locks'. Her words, not mine.

Basically, I was a trophy for her.

But still. She looked at me the same way she did to all of the boys in our grade, a predator's gaze, hidden by flirtatiousness. The first few weeks we dated, I admit that I enjoyed it somewhat. She kissed me all the time, which was something that got Iggy totally jealous. I always laughed when he asked questions about how far we'd gone, but inside, I felt deeply uncomfortable. That much intimacy was overkill for me. I didn't even _smile_at Lissa that much, let alone touch her like that. Ugh…

"You know she would let you," Iggy always remarked, wondering why I didn't like to talk about it. He should know after six years of friendship that emotion is one of my least favorite things. It bothered me when feelings had too much power over me.

"See, that's the point. She'd let _me,_ but she would also let Jake or Dave or Louis," I pointed out. Iggy had to agree with me, knowing how Lissa was.

But finally, I had had enough. I confided in Iggy how I didn't know how to cut off our relationship, and he immediately offered to help. All he had to do was hang around, slouching in baggy jeans in the deserted place in front of the library at lunch, and Lissa was attracted to him like a magnet. She barely spared any words before she started kissing him, knowing that Iggy was my best friend. Then she tried to get him to promise not to tell me! As if. Iggy went along with her, acting like he was head over heels for her. All I had to do was claim that I had seen her kissing him, and that we were o-v-e-r.

Sweetness.

Now I was rid of Lissa Rift. Except for the fact that she would sit next to me in homeroom for the rest of the year.

I stopped, mentally groaning as I realized that fact. I would just have to ask for a seat change or something. Ms. James loved me, I was sure she would understand that I didn't want to sit next to Little Miss No Personal Space anymore. David could sit next to her, he loved girls like that. And I could sit next to nice, shy Judy Suli, who never spoke much to anyone. I liked sitting next to people that were equally as non-talkative as me, since neither of us would feel compelled to start a conversation.

I decided that that's what I would do, and felt an uncharacteristic grin form on my face as I walked back home, my black backpack slung over one shoulder. I was free of Lissa Rift! Yes!

There was a sudden movement out of the corner of my eye, and I turned my head to find a girl standing on the front lawn of a house across the street, staring at me.

The house had obviously been spruced up recently, newly-painted a sky blue color, with a deep chestnut brown front door flung wide open. A new wooden fence stood around its borders, protecting the front yard from the outside world. A white moving van was parked in the driveway, next to a few bikes and a dark blue car. I remembered a FOR SALE sign being there not too long ago, and realized that a family must have bought the house, and was moving in right now.

The girl standing just inside the gate was pretty, with wavy, dark brown hair and light brown eyes set in a deeply tanned face. She was wearing dark skinny jeans, Converse, a pink top and a brown hoody, and would have been completely normal and unremarkable if not for the weird way she was looking at me. It wasn't even that she was just staring- sadly, that was something I was kind of used to from girls by now- it was that I got the distinct impression she wasn't looking at me because she thought I was cute or something. There was a weird expression on her face, like she was thinking deep and hard about something that she was trying to connect to me. I halted and stared back for a minute, unnerved. As a rule, I didn't start conversations with random girls who stared at me from their front lawns, but it almost seemed worse to stand here staring back or to just walk away. I had no idea what to do.

Suddenly, a woman's voice rang out from inside the house. "Ella! Come help Max move the couch!" The girl outside snapped to attention, turning to look inside the house.

Another teenage girl's voice argued from inside, sounding disgruntled. "Mom! I'm strong enough to lift it myself!"

"I don't want you to get hurt!"

"It's not like I'm a weakling or something!" 

"I know you aren't, Max." There was a pause, and the woman sighed. "If you don't want Ella to help you lift the couch, then at least have her help you with the layout of the living room," the woman's voice reasoned.

There was a pause.

"Fine," the unseen girl replied. There were vague scuffling sounds from inside the house, and the girl standing outside, whose name was apparently Ella, turned to give me one last contemplating look before turning on her heel, jogging delicately into the house, and firmly shutting the door.

What the hell had just happened?

After a moment, I continued the walk home, thinking about the calculating expression on the girl's face. She hadn't seemed interested in me herself, but seemed to be thinking about something else while she stared unabashedly. Girls could be so freaky sometimes.

I shuddered, adjusting my backpack strap as I broke into a run. I just wanted to get home, away from thoughts about Lissa and this new girl, Ella. Another name popped into my head, though. The one the woman had said from inside the sold house.

Max.

Wasn't that a boy's name?

**Edited as of 7/21/13. **

Poor Fangles doesn't know what hit him. He hasn't even_seen___Max and he's already obsessed with her. XD

Nudge: You know, it's not very nice to mess with Fang.

Don't worry, you get to help mess with him later in the story!**  
**Nudge: YAY!

Angel: Can I help?

…maybe… I haven't decided yet.

Angel: Okay.

Review please? XD I don't know if I'm continuing this, just saying. If you like it, say AYE!

~TM(AYE!)~


	2. AN

Hey Peoples, I'm so sorry I've been MIA.

REPENT.

It's not entirely my fault. You see, soon after New Years-

Nudge: And that New Years Resolution you made that raised everyone's hopes about you updating quicker-

I said I was sorry! Anyway, my computer totally and utterly DIED. And I had half of the next iPod Screen chappie typed up, all of the next chapter for two other stories, the ideas for School Days and Erasing Lissa, and the beginnings of the next chapter for ATM Wars and Race for the Cure. So yeah, I need to figure out how to raise my laptop from the dead. Then, I will update EVERYTHING in a major spree! But just saying, I procrastinated on writing this A/N 'cause I hate writing them, and there are some stories where this will be the second A/N, which I HATE. I'm so sorry you guys. Please forgive me.

Angel: She's banging her head against the wall.

Gazzy: Poor TMI…. –eats cookies-

HEY! That was MY cookie! –tackles Gazzy-

…

This is Nudge writing. TMI is wrestling with Gazzy over the last cookie now. So yeah, this note was typed on TMI's mother's computer, but the lady won't let her write whole chapters 'cause it takes too long and TMI's little brother-

Angel: She calls him Shortso. XP

-needs to type up his project. So yeah! Byezas!

Angel? Will you do the honors?

Angel: SURE! So sorry about the inconvenience people, TMI is beating herself up about disappointing you guys…. Now to write her signature thingymacdoodle!

~TMI~


	3. Moving In

**Thanks for the reviews guys! I luffles you. =D**

**Dedicated to: Athena, SkyeLuver, Ninjastar954, MaxXFang-TogetherForever-, Elise the Amazing, Maximum love, Padfootlover109, Hiya, ButterflyRosethorn, The Seagull, Skyler.125, ADarkWingedForever, xXB-A-C-O-N Spells LOVEX, Angel's Detective, wings**

**(Sorry for the weird spacing. I typed it on my iPod and emailed it to myself again. It was the only way I could write another chappie. XD) FIXED AS OF 4/3/11, 2/10/12, and 11/21/12! =D  
**  
MPOV  
I sighed, tightening the elastic on my ponytail as I looked around my new room. The walls were pale green, and completely bare, paired with shiny, wood-paneled floors. There was no furniture, just the walls, floor, and a long window on one side.

Oh goody.

"Well, it looks like I'll have to work on you," I told the room aloud, putting my hands on my hips. Predictably, the room did not respond.

"MOM!" I yelled, not turning around.

"MAX!" she called back, probably from somewhere downstairs. I smiled; this was a routine for us.

"Can I go out to get some paint and stuff for my room?" I asked loudly, mentally deciding on designs and paint schemes. There was a pause from downstairs.

"Are you sure you want to do that immediately? We just got here two hours ago, Max!" my mom reminded me, her voice sounding closer. I turned around and headed out the doorway to my room.

"I know, it's just that it's so boring in here! I'm suffocating!" I complained, trotting down the staircase. I could hear Mom sigh from somewhere to my left, and followed the sound.

"Alright, then." Mom emerged from the new laundry room, wiping her hands of on her jeans. "Go get Ella. We'll go to that hardware place downtown that Linda Rianild told me about."

I frowned at the unfamiliar name. "Linda Rianild? Who's that?" I asked, following Mom out to the garden. Ella was lying in the hammock I had set up, plugged into her iPod and reading a book.

"A lady that lives just down the street. She came over to welcome us while you were upstairs," Mom explained, heading over to Ella. "We were talking about the neighborhood and such. Linda says she has a son your age."

"Oh?" I asked, not really paying attention as I retied the elastic on my ponytail. Tons of wispy bits were falling out of its grasp, and the hair in my eyes was really beginning to bother me.

"Yes. She said his name was Nick, I think." Mom tapped Ella's shoulder, and my sister looked up, pulling an earbud out.

"Yeah?" Ella glanced from the pages of her book to Mom. Apparently she was at a good part. Tough luck.

"I'm taking Max to go get things for her room. Would you like to come with us?" Mom offered, sitting on the hammock next to her. I tapped my foot impatiently, crossing my arms. Ella stuck her tongue out at me before answering.

"Sure! I want to paint my room. It's so boring, I feel like I'm suffocating!" Ella groaned, marking her place in the book with a leaf.

I raised my eyebrows at Ella, smiling. "Great minds think alike," I told her. She grinned, and we finished our ritual together.

"And then, there's ours," we chorused. Ella and I had an odd sort of connection, and we often said the same things. Every time this happened, we would repeat that particular quote. It was just so true for us!

Mom smiled. "You two are so much alike, it's just a bit creepy."

"Hey!" I yelped, smacking her arm lightly. "That's not nice to say about your beautiful, wonderful daughters!"

"But it's the truth," she teased, getting up out of the hammock. Ella and I groaned in unison, standing up and following her to the car. "And there you go again, which just proves my point. Are you sure you're not twins?"

"You should know that we aren't, Mom. You gave birth to us!" Ella pointed out as we got into the car. Mom smiled at us in the mirror while we buckled in, backing slowly out of the driveway.

"I know, I know. You don't look anything alike either, so I don't think you're twins," Mom reasoned. I smirked as I adjusted my seatbelt, watching the houses flash by while we passed.

"Ah, but we could be fraternal!" I suggested, craning my neck to see a couple of girls walk by. They were walking two dogs on bright green leashes, and both were utterly adorable. I have kind of a soft spot for animals, especially dogs, birds, and dolphins. They were all so dang cute! And a pod of dolphins could beat the crap out of a couple sharks! Oh yeah, gooo dolphins!

"I thought you were arguing against being twins, not for it," Ella whined, poking my arm. I scowled playfully at her.

"Oh my dear sister, how are you so dim when I am bursting with brains?" I asked her, ruffling her hair. Ells pushed me off, scowling back at me.

"Don't mess with my hair! I just straightened it," Ella complained, carefully rearranging her already perfect dark brown locks. I shook my head sadly, wondering where I had gone wrong. Where did Ella learn to be so girly-girl? I was anything but that, and I was her big sister. Aren't big sisters supposed to be role models?

"We're here," Mom announced, cruising into a parking space. I blinked in surprise.

"Really? So soon?" Ella asked, sounding as surprised as I felt.

"Yep, it's only a five minute drive to get into the main shopping area," Mom explained, stepping onto the sidewalk. "We could have walked, but we'll be carrying paint cans and who knows what else on the way back. Now, let's go!" Mom set off cheerfully down the road, Ella and I following cautiously behind. This town was a lot smaller than the city we had lived in previously, but I liked the small, homey feel it gave off. Instead of a Starbucks on every corner, I spotted a small cafe with a sign reading, The Dolphin Domain. That sounded right up my alley. Dolphins and caffeine all in one cute little shop? I'm in. I made a mental note to go in there sometime soon.

We stepped into a hardware store a couple minutes later. The store, Wickman's Finest, was large and neatly organized. The paint cans and sample were laid out near the front, and I immediately bee-lined towards them. Ella wandered towards the back of the shop, while Mom  
browsed through the lawn furniture names on all the paint cards were really interesting, and I read several without even looking at the colors, just relishing the sound of the names.

Coral Goddess, Ivy Dream, Greek Isle Dance, Passion Sunrise.

Mmmmmm... Delicious. Some people would be shocked to know that Maximum Ride actually enjoyed words like that. Those were the people who didn't know me, and frankly, I didn't particularly want to know them. After I had my fill of cool names, (Graceful Moonshine!) I actually began to look at the paint samples. I had been thinking of purple, but now I was faced with hundreds of different colors. It was a near-impossible decision to make. I finally decided on four colors, one for each wall. Each was chosen partially because of the name, and partially because of the hue. The wall with the long, low window would be Forever Cerulean, aka a really pretty shade of lightish blue. The wall my bed would be next to would be Washed with Gold, a shimmery, metallic dark golden color. The doorway wall was Sweet Benevolence, a dark violet swirling with lighter purple streaks. A final wall was Love the Night, which, to be put quite frankly, was plain black. Black was one of my three all-time favorite colors though, so I didn't care.

I pulled out the paint swatches and hurried down the aisle to find my mom. She was standing with Ella at the back of the store, next to a huge, dilapidated pile of multicolored bean bags. Ella was pointing at several with a pleading expression on her face, while Mom didn't look very convinced. I sidled over with my paint cards, absentmindedly flipping my hair over my shoulder as I did so. It was kind of a habit for me to throw my hair behind me constantly; it got pretty annoying to me at times, but I never wanted to cut it short. Secretly, my one vanity was my long, dark blonde hair. It was almost a light brown, but if you looked at it, you immediately knew it was blonde. There were also natural lighter blonde streaks scattered near the front of my  
head, blending into my tresses nicely. What can I say? I like my hair long.

While I was going off-track thinking about my secret love for my hair, Ella was begging Mom for a couple bean bags. "Mom, pleeeeeeeease can I get just two? I can't decide between the pink one and the yellow one!" Ella begged, using her Bambi eyes for good measure. Mom sighed, averting her eyes from Ella's pleading face.

"I don't know, Ells. You only need one," Mom pointed out.

"No, what if I invite a friend over? I would want to sit on my bean bag, but they might want to also!" Ella argued. "Pleeeease Mom? Please?"

"Fine," Mom decided wearily. She turned around and noticed me, standing and silently twirling a lock of my hair between my fingers. "Max, do you want a bean bag too?"

I nodded eagerly, smiling at Ella. It helped that Ella got everything she wanted, because then usually I got stuff too, without having to do anything. "Sure Mom, that'd be awesome! Can I get a silver one?" I asked, pointing at a certain one. It wasn't that fake 'silver' that was actually gray, but truly silver. Mom nodded, watching Ella pick out hers.

"You can get another one also, since Ella is getting two," Mom told me, grabbing the silver one and tossing it into our shopping cart. I smiled, picking out an ice blue bean bag and placing it on the silver one. Ella came over with her bean bags and laid them on top of mine. "Okay then. Max, did you get your paints?" Mom asked me, wheeling the cart towards the cash register. I nodded, flashing the paint swatches towards her.

"What colors did you get?" Ella craned her neck to see my choices.

"Washed with Gold, Forever Cerulean, Sweet Benevolence, and Love the Night," I reported, lifting the swatches to show her again. Ella nodded, pointing at her own swatches in the cart.

"I got Passion Sunrise and Mellow Notes, also known as pink and peachy-colored," Ella explained. "My bean bags will go really well with them." The lady at the cash register handed us our paint buckets, and we made our purchases. The car ride home was quiet and uneventful, the only sounds being the rustling of the four bean bags in the trunk. Once we got home, I grabbed my paint buckets and some of the paint supplies we had purchased, heading directly to the stairs. Once back inside my bare, boring room, I spread the paint sheets and pried the lid off the can. Dipping my brush inside, I immediately got to work. Five hours later saw me standing, paint-splattered and tired, in the middle of a room with one blue wall, one black, one violet, and one gold. Dang, that had taken some serious elbow grease, but I was finished. At least I didn't have to do this tomorrow, along with the homework I would no-doubt have. Mom had arranged so Ells and I could be enrolled in the nearest high school ahead of time, although it was a quarter of the way through the school year already. We had our class schedules, P.E. clothes, and locker combos at the ready for our first day at Cromwell High. All I had left to do now was wait for the paint to dry, locate my boxes of stuff the movers had left in the living room, and decorate my new room. With a happy sigh, I walked out of my room and downstairs, following my nose to the kitchen. It smelled like garlic, and garlic is one of the best things ever! Obviously, Mom had made dinner while I was painting my room.

"Dinnertime!" Mom sang from inside the kitchen. I rocketed in, pausing as I spotted a pot of pasta, two saucepans filled with marinara, and a tray of garlic bread. I gaped at the assortment of delicious foods, feeling my stomach rumble at the sight.

"How did you find all the cooking stuff, Mom?" Ella asked, coming in behind me. "I can't find any of my things! What am I going to wear for school tomorrow?"

"You could always wear your bathrobe," I suggested, grabbing a piece of garlic bread. Ella stared at me incredulously. "What?" I demanded. "It would make a statement!"

"Yeah, and the statement would be, 'I'm stark raving mad!' " Ella muttered, swiping another slice of bread. Mom shook her head, then pointed at a stack of paper plates.

"It took me an hour to find the pots and such, then I had to go out and buy food supplies, so I didn't have time to find the plates and silverware. Dig in, girls!" Mom waved her hands dramatically, and we rolled our eyes at her before pouncing on the spaghetti.

"That. Was freaking delicious," Ella declared, tossing her plastic fork down on the empty paper plate. I burped in agreement, smiling contentedly.

"Thanks Mom," we told her in unison. I grinned at Ella, and started the tradition.

"Great minds think alike-"

"And then, there's ours."

"Amen," Mom finished, tossing her plate in the trash. "Now, let's go find some of your things so you'll be ready for school tomorrow!"

At her words, I groaned. Ella's reaction was the complete opposite. Judging from the volume of her squeal, she was very excited about starting school here. "Yay! Now I'll be able to find all of my makeup and clothes and shoes and school stuff and the materials for The Plan-" Mom's eyes widened at these words, and she almost imperceptibly shook her head. Ella cut her words short, suddenly flustered.

"What Plan? Why do I feel that the word Plan is capitalized?" I demanded, stopping short of throwing my plate away. I narrowed my eyes at the two very-guilty looking members of my family. They were up to something.

"Umm, I have no idea, Max," Ella dithered, twisting her napkin in her hands. "Maybe you're going more crazy than you already are?"

"Ha ha, very funny Ells. Now what are you really up to?" I tossed my plate in the trash and stalked menacingly up to her. Ella gulped visibly, glancing at Mom for assistance. Mom stepped forward, a determined look in her eyes.

"Max, honey, you'll see tomorrow. Now stop torturing your sister and go find your clothes and sleeping stuff," Mom ordered, shooing Ella and I out of the kitchen.

"This isn't over," I hissed at Ella. She smiled sweetly back at me.

"Of course not, my dear vengeful sister. How much of your room did you finish painting?" Ella asked, swiftly changing the subject.

"All of it," I informed her smugly. Ella's jaw dropped.

"What? I only finished two walls, and Mom was helping me!" she complained. I smirked at her importantly.

"That's because I'm Maximum Ride, and you are Ella Martinez. The difference in our awesomesaucetasticnosity levels is just too great for even your braniac mind to comprehend, Ells," I scoffed. "Now let's find our junk."

We were knee-deep in boxes and bags of all our earthly possessions, and wondering how the heck we were going to locate all of our stuff.

It took about an hour, four pairs of scissors, a sharpie, and some duct tape, in case you were wondering. Ella tugged all of her boxes into one corner of the living room, while I claimed another. We stacked Mom's boxes in the third corner, and the general supplies were pushed into the remaining one. Ella cut carefully through the tape on a box labeled, ELLA'S SCHOOL CLOTHES, looking unreasonably excited. "OMG I can't wait for school tomorrow!" Ella squealed. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"I can," I muttered, prying open another box. The contents brought a real smile back on my face though. "It's all my useful stuff!" Happily, I surveyed the contents; most of my bookcase, a soccer ball, a few trophies, my cleats and shinguards, a few pictures in frames, and a backpack full of random junk. I grinned as I dug my soccer ball out of the box, and dropped it to my feet. Soccer was my passion. I felt like I could fly every time I hit the field.

"You're gonna have a lot of fun here, Max!" Ella insisted, attempting to steal the ball from me. Instead, I Croifed it with my left foot and turned to keep the ball from her. A smirk tugged at my lips as she groaned resignedly. We always would play keep-away whenever I had my ball out around the house. I usually won.

"How do you know I will?" I demanded, absentmindedly tapping the ball with my feet. "In case you've forgotten, I'm Maximum Ride. I don't make friends very easily."

"I know," Ella groaned, her happy façade momentarily slipping. I smirked again. "However, Mom said that Mrs. Rianild told her that her son Nick has a lot of friends that would love to meet both of us. Apparently, Nick himself isn't very sociable either, but he has a tight circle of friends."

Trust Ella to find this information out on her first day in town. "You little eavesdropper!" I accused, lifting the soccer ball up to my knees. I began to juggle while we continued the conversation.

"I am not an eavesdropper!" Ella protested, her eyes following the ball as it bounced up and down. "Mom told me this herself!"

"Ok then. Second question: what makes you think I'll like this Nick kid?" I asked, actually a bit curious. A wicked smirk blossomed on Ella's face, and I was immediately wary.

"Oh, if Nick is who I think he is, you're going to love him," Ella predicted. I rolled my eyes, trapping the ball under my left foot.

"Whatever you say, Ells," I muttered, pulling a sleeping bag out of a box. "Whatever you say."

**This is pretty long, and I have no idea how to transition into the next part smoothly, so I'm gonna insert a chapter break... Review please! I'll try to update this quickly!**

**~TMI~**


	4. Rianild? Where have I heard THAT before?

**I'm sooo sorry for the weird spacing again. Some people said it was hard to read, and believe me, I REPENT. But it's either weirdly-spaced chapter or no chapter at all. =(  
Enjoy. =) UPDATE! As of 3/30/11 and 11/21/12, I have fixed the weird spacing. =D YAY ME!**

**DEDICATED TO MY LOVELY REVIEWERS!**

I gathered up all of the school junk Mom, Ella and I had found digging through the boxes early this morning, and tossed it into my new purple backpack before struggling to pull the zipper up. "Max!" Ella yelled up the stairs at me.

"I'm coming!" I grunted, finally succeeding in closing the backpack. I slung it over my shoulder and ran down the stairs. Ella handed me my lunch in a paper bag at the bottom, and I groaned as I realized I would have to open my backpack again in order to stuff the stupid lunch in.  
Ella grinned sweetly at me as I dragged open the backpack zipper again, before suddenly frowning. "Max, we're going to be late if you don't get dressed soon. We have to leave in like, fifteen minutes!"

I looked at her quizzically. "I am dressed," I pointed out. Ella blanched, then shook her head furiously before pulling me up off the  
floor and forcing me back up the stairs. "What is it Ella?" I asked, wondering what the heck was wrong with her.

"I'm going to get you dressed!" she replied steadily as she shoved me into her room and closed the door.

"I'm fine how I am Ells!" I protested. Dark jeans with black sneakers, a green t-shirt, and a black hoody was fine for me to wear.  
"No you aren't. This is the first day of our new highschool and you're going to look divine!" Ella insisted, diving into her closet. I sighed, knowing that there would be no escaping this form of torture she loved to impose on me. "Let's see..." Ella mused. "Go get me those nice skinny jeans Aunt Claire got you for your birthday. My pants are all too short for you."

"Those jeans are too tight though!" I complained. "They stick to my legs."

"That's what they're supposed to do! They're skinny jeans, for crying out loud!" Ella shot back. "Now go get them!" At least Ella wasn't trying to get me into a skirt. Fortunately, she was two inches shorter than me, since I was a year older than her, and none of her skirts were dresscode on me. I didn't own any skirts myself, so I never had to wear any to school, although sometimes Ella forced me into one of hers for things unacademic. Unfortunately though, Ella had a long upper body, and all of her shirts fit like a glove on me. Well, as they say, you win some, you lose some.

I grumbled as I crossed the hallway and reentered my new room. After wading through the ankle-deep scattering of paint sheets, clothing, and newly discovered junk, I got to the other side of the mess. Once there, I started looking for one of the unopened boxes I knew held the skinny jeans. After a moment of searching, i located the right box. Of course, it was the one of my non-important stuff, so I had it heavily wrapped in packing tape. With a sigh, I grabbed an Exacto knife off my still neat desk and ripped through the tape on the edges. Prying it open, I found the jeans Aunt Claire gave me for my fourteenth birthday sitting right on top. They were even still folded in sharp, just-out-of-the-store angles. I had never worn them after my initial discovery that they hugged my legs like Care Bears in pants form. Grudgingly, I pulled them out and walked back into Ella's room. She was waist deep in her closet, rifling through all the clothes she had managed to hang up in our short time here. She resurfaced as I came in though, looking excited. "Oh good, you found the pants. Now, put them on," Ella instructed.

"Yes ma'm," I muttered under my breath as I stripped my previous jeans and donned the new ones. As before, they were tight on my calves and thighs, and to my embarrassment, I saw in Ella's mirror that they also hugged my butt. "Ells," I started. "I can't wear thes-"

I was interrupted by a belt being thrown at my face. On instinct, I lifted my hand and caught it before it made contact with me. Whoa, now THAT was insanely ninja of me. "Put that on," Ella told me from inside her closet. "I'm trying to find a top for you..."

I studied the belt. It was woven of a dark brown material, and studded with circles of brass ranging from the size of a dime to a tiny brass drop. I decided I liked it, and therefore buckled it around my waist without complaint. Ella squealed from inside her closet and bounded out as I flinched. "OMG I JUST FOUND THE PERFECT TOP!" Ella shrieked excitedly.

I winced. Her excitement usually meant my discomfort, and I was dreading the shirt. Ella tossed the clothing at me, and I caught not one, but two different shirts. "Put the blue one on first, then the purple," Ella called, already back inside her closet.

Surprisingly, it was okay in my terms. Ella had picked out a midnight blue camisole with metallic lace at the neck, along with a deep purple ribbed tank top. When I took off my green shirt to put on the new ones, Ella looked approvingly at my flat stomach. "Good, now the shirt will look even better on you! It's great that you're so thin and lithe and muscled Max! I wish I looked like you..." she trailed off wistfully. I smiled at her before putting my head through the camisole.

"You are way prettier than I'll ever be, Ells," I reassured her. "I've always thought so."

She brightened. "You really think I'm that pretty? But you're gorgeous, Max!" I grimaced at her as I adjusted the camisole. "What?" she demanded. Raising my eyebrows, I stared at her before putting my arms through the tank top.

"I'm not pretty Ella. I know that, and there's no way you'll convince me otherwise." She tried to protest, but I quickly shushed her. I believed what I was saying, I had no reason not to. After all, in our last town, my boyfriend Sam had dumped me for Brigid the minute she transferred into our school in the middle of eighth grade. I hated that girl's guts, at first for stealing my two-year boyfriend, and later just because she was... Brigid. One of the perks of moving was getting away from her and her disgusting ways. "Is there any other kind of death and despair in 'fashion' form that you have in store for me?"

Ella pursed her lips, obviously not missing my subject change or dropping the topic. However, she decided to let me in on her dastardly plans instead of pointlessly arguing with me, Ms Maximum Stubborn Ride. "I'm going to take advantage of your okay mood right now and doll you up a bit." Ella took one look at my open mouth, ready to protest, and quickly added, "Only a bit, Max."

I struggled, I really did. But have YOU ever managed to deny Ella Martinez's Bambi Eyes? Hmm? If so, I need to know your secrets, because I am a total sucker for them, and my dearest sister Ella knows it. "Fine," I spat out, after a few minutes of battling her expert Bambi Eyes. She squealed in joy before pulling me out of her room and into the large upstairs bathroom.

"Sit," she ordered, pointing at the toilet. I grudgingly walked over and pulled the cover down, sitting daintily on it while Ella dug around in a large pink bag sitting on the counter. Out of this she pulled out a smaller black one that I immediately recognized as her makeup bag. I couldn't help but let my fingers clench the toilet seat harder at its appearance. Bad memories of Ella's forced makeovers on me were quickly resurfacing. "I'm going to straighten your hair quickly," she told me. "Luckily, I just finished with mine, so the iron is still really hot. Hold still..." she murmured as she held up a metal thingy in her left hand. It was plugged into the wall, and I could easily imagine me getting electrocuted by it. That's exactly something that could happen to me.

Surprisingly, my hair was efficiently straightened in seven minutes, and when I looked at myself in the mirror I had elbow length sheets of glowing, brownish-blond hair. "Wow," I remarked, reaching a hand to finger a strand of the completely smooth, straight hair.

"Straighteners are the most useful invention ever," Ella told me seriously as she rummaged around in her makeup bag. "Hmm, you'd look gorgeous in my style of makeup, but it would be too un-Max for the first impressions of your first day of highschool. Maybe just a dab of eyeshadow..." Ella took a small green case out of her bag and snapped it opened to show three indents filled with shimmery skin-colored makeup, and a small wand. She dabbed the wand in an indent of makeup, then went for my face with it. I involuntarily flinched, trying to shrink away from it. "Hold still, Max, and close your eyes," Ella murmured as the wand came closer to me. I gulped, but did as she said. Soon, there was a gentle pressure on my eyelid, then on the other. "Good," she remarked, standing back to survey her work. Ella put the wand back in the case and closed it before handing the thing of makeup to me. I stared at her blankly. "You'll need to reapply throughout the day," Ella explained. I nodded, and held onto the case of eyeshadow while Ella dug back into her bag. There was no way I would actually 'reapply', but it was best to humor Ells in situations like this. While I was thinking this, she had whipped out a tube of lip gloss labeled DR PEPPER. My phone lit up, and I looked at it to find that it was already 8:00. Oops.

"Ells, we gotta run," I told her, getting up quickly. "Give me the lip gloss, I'll put it on later." I was actually considering putting on that lip gloss, because Dr Pepper was my favorite soda, and this stuff boasted the exact taste. Yummy. Ella handed me the red tube, which I swiftly grabbed and ran with out of the bathroom. We both raced down the stairs, grabbing our backpacks and sprinting out the front door.

"Bye Mom!" we chorused. She called out a good-bye to us before the door slammed shut and we ran all the way to school. I was just thankful Mom had showed us where it was the day before, or we would have been lost in no time. When we sprinted onto the campus, it was already 8:05. Crap! Homeroom started at 8:10! Of course I'd be late on my first day. That was just my luck.

"Bye Ells!" I called to my sister. She waved to me before disappearing around a corner, her blue backpack bouncing up and down as she ran. I wove through the crowd in the opposite direction, luckily moving with the current as I tried to find my new locker. After a precious minute of searching, I discovered locker 421, tucked into a corner with three others. I smiled. At least I would get a bit of privacy sometimes. I fumbled one-handed with the zipper as I held my schedule with my right. I had homeroom with a Miss James in room 6.

I had absolutely no idea where that was. I quickly stuffed the things I wouldn't need back into my backpack, which I shoved into my locker. Glancing frantically between the map in my hands and the classrooms I was facing, I tried to make sense of my surroundings. Where the heck was freaking homeroom? Then, I saw it. About thirty feet down the hall was a door labled with a large silver six. I rushed towards it as quickly as my feet would carry me through the dispersing crowds of kids.

I stumbled in a second before the bell rang, my arms full of the typical school junk students are forced to carry around on their first day. Everyone turned in their seats to stare at me, and my cheeks heated up as I heard their whispers.

"Who is that?"

"New girl, new girl!"

"She's kinda pretty."

"Kinda? Man, I'd rate her a-"

"Settle down, class," a firm voice broke in. That immediately stopped the embarrassing whispers, and the kids stared at me in silence. I schooled my expression into a calm, pleasant one, holding my binder tightly. "Hello miss," the voice told me warmly. It belonged to a tall lady with dark brown curls. She was smiling at me, her gray eyes twinkling. I found myself grinning back at her; her smile was infectious. "I presume you are Miss Ride?"

"Yeah, that's me," I confirmed. She nodded, writing something down on her clipboard. As she looked back up at me, the class broke off into whispers again.

"Ride?"

"Yeah. So where's she gonna sit?"

"Lemme think. A, B, C, D-"

"Wow Gabby. Wow."

"I'm Miss James," the lady told me, startling me out of my eavesdropping. "I will be your homeroom teacher for the rest of the year. Before we get you a seat, would you tell us something about yourself?" I nodded, and Miss James turned to the class, clapping her hands for attention. "Listen, everyone!"

There was immediate silence. I got the idea that people liked Miss James.

"Umm, hi there," I started, staring each person in the eyin turn. "My name is Maximum Ride, you can call me Max. I have a sister named Ella, we just moved here from Nevada, and I am a total soccer fanatic."

"What position?" someone called out.

"Center halfback and sweeper," I replied. "Just don't put me in goal or you'll be sorry."

That drew a small laugh from a few of my fellow sports jocks in the class. I grinned at everyone, suddenly feeling better. "Okay, Max, we sit by alphabetical order of last names, here," Miss James explained. I nodded, glancing at the neat rows of desks. "Let me see, you'll be sitting with the 'R's... Where will that be, exactly?" Miss James mused aloud as she glanced over her clipboard once more. "Oh, I see," she announced finally. "We're going to need to move some people around. Come, Max." Miss James strode up the aisle to the back of the class, stopping next to a tall boy who was looking clearly uncomfortable. A petite redhead sat next to him, practically in his lap, and was looking angry. Miss James did not look pleased with the situation. "Miss Rift, will you please move one desk in front?" she asked, looking at the redhead. 'Miss Rift's jaw dropped open.

"What? But Miss James..." she whined, her voice high-pitched and sappy. I involuntarily grimaced, but quickly smoothed my expression out. I didn't need everyone to know what I was thinking, cause my thoughts weren't pretty. This whiny girl reminded me of another stupid girl I knew, whose name started with a 'B' and ended with a 'rigid'.

That was not a good similarity to have.

"Lissa, please vacate your seat at once. Max will be sitting here now. You are going to sit next to David," Miss James explained coolly, not looking pleased with this Lissa character. Lissa pouted, trying to grab the boy's hand again. His eyes flashed in alarm, but he showed no other reaction but moving his hand away from Lissa. That made her pout even more.

"Fine," Lissa griped, slowly picking up her binder. She stalked over to the seat Miss James had indicated. A small Asian girl was sitting in it, and she looked timidly up at Lissa, who was scowling at her. "Move it, Suli," Lissa growled. The girl immediately grabbed her things and jumped out of the chair. Miss James narrowed her eyes at Lissa, but she didn't say anything.

"Judy, you'll be sitting with Rhonda now. Mark, you're moved next to Laurie, and Jon will be next to Matt," Miss James directed. The people whose names she called stood up and quietly moved to their new seats. While they shifted position, Miss James turned back to me. "Max, this is Fang Rianild. You're going to be sitting next to him for the rest of the year. Fang, be social," She warned, looking stern. The boy, Fang, I guess, just flashed a quick smile at her before lapsing back into a nondescript expression. As Miss James walked back to the front of the room, I set my binder down on the desk and sat down in my new seat. The redhead, Lissa, turned around and glared at me. Or, rather, attempted to glare at me. Her look wasn't very intimidating, and I smiled back at her.

"Hi! Is your name Lissa? That's great! Bye!" I tittered, speaking quickly and in an unnaturally high voice. Lissa blinked, and I fought back a smirk.

"Well, Miss Maximum," she sneered, narrowing her bright green eyes at me. "You stole my seat. Don't even think about stealing my boyfriend, too."

Before I could ask who in the world would want to date her, the boy beside me straightened in his chair. The glare he sent Lissa was actually rather scary, unlike her own weak one. "Lissa, we are not dating anymore. I dumped you. Get over it," he growled. Lissa's angry expression faded into a fake, upset one.

"But Fangy, I thought it was just a lovers' spat," Lissa whined. I almost choked on my own spit. Was this girl for real?

'Fangy' didn't seem happy. "Uh, no. You kissed my best friend, remember? You cheated on me. We're over." The boy sat back in his chair. "And leave Max out of this. I'm not yours for her to 'steal away'," Fang snorted, closing his eyes. "As if," he muttered. Lissa looked positively gobsmacked. It was, all in all, pretty hilarious.

Announcements began at that choice moment, and Lissa turned around with a huff. I took the opportunity to study my new deskmate.  
This Fang had olive-toned skin, and black hair that swept over his head in a dark wave. It just brushed the tops of his eyebrows, and hung down his neck. Fang was dressed in all black; a black sweatshirt, black cargo pants, and black sneakers. Even his binder and the pencil in his hand were black. Either he was a goth, or he was fanatically obsessed with all things black. Actually, the goth idea might explain the whole 'Fang' thing. After all, who names their kid Fang? Suddenly, Fang's eyes flew open, and he stared inquisitively back at me. I was confronted with a dark gaze, and was completely blown by his literally black eyes. They weren't 'such a dark brown they were nearly black', but truly black. It was fascinating. I had never met someone with black eyes before.

Suddenly, his mouth curved up in a smile. "Why are you staring at me?" he whispered, looking mischievous.

I fought back another blush, feeling surprised. "I'm gathering data," I shot back quickly, my voice the same volume as his. "So I can stalk you and murder you in your sleep."

Fang looked surprised for a moment, and actually smiled again. "Oh gee, thanks. We've just met and already the threats have begun," he teased, his face already calm and collected again. Fang didn't keep a real expression on his face for longer than three seconds.

"I like to get a head start," I replied, lolling back in my chair. "So, what's with the name?"

"Whats with the name?" Fang countered, staring me down. I refused to look away, and stared right back at him.

"Touché," I admitted "Maximum Ride isn't exactly a common name. My mom named me that because she wanted me to be strong, able to carry my own weight, the maximum," I explained. Briefly, I wondered why I was telling this to a complete stranger, but shrugged away the thought. It wasn't like my name was a deep, dark secret or anything.

Unlike Fang's eyes...

Now where did that come from? I wondered, surprised at the rogue thought. That was completely random and unexpected. Weird.

"Oh, that's cool," Fang replied, unaware of my mental challenges. "My real name is Nick Rianild, but the only one who calls me that is my grandmother."

"Wait, Rianild?" I interrupted, temporarily sidetracked. "That sounds oddly familiar."

"I'm immensely popular and famous, that's why," Fang remarked airily, waving his hands around vaguely. "Everyone who's anyone knows the name Rianild."

"Stop being a stuck-up pig," I reprimanded him. "Let me think for a sec..." Fang sighed, but fell silent, staring at the pencil in his hand. I shook my head, but tried to think of where I'd heard the name Rianild before. Hmm... "Nope," I finally decided. "I can't think of where I heard it."

"I told you, I'm famous and popul-" Fang started, but was cut off by dear old Lissa turning around again.

"Hey Fangy, are you sure you don't want me?" she simpered, making her eyes huge and her lips pouty. I had to say, this girl had 'seductive' down to a T.

I can't say I was surprised.

"Yes, Lissa, I'm sure," Fang returned, sighing heavily. "We're over. You kissed Iggy."

"Iggy was sexually harassing me!" Lissa claimed, closing her eyes dramatically. "He wouldn't take no for an answer, Fangy!"

I looked between them, completely confused. Who was Iggy? And why had Lissa kissed him? Fang seemed to notice my bewilderment, and ended the argument with a few final sentencse.

"Lissa, don't you dare try to make me think Iggy would act like that. I've been his best friend since birth, and I know how he acts. Iggy does not force himself on girls. Please don't talk to me about the matter again." With that, Fang slouched back in his chair again. Lissa pouted once more, looking angry.

"Fine," she shot back. "Fine then, Fang. I'm through with you!"

"Finally," he muttered. I laughed, and Lissa glared at me.

We lapsed back into silence for a few minutes, and I listened in on the conversations going on around us. I was featured prominently in most of them, but there were others talking about sports, fashion, and the like. I smiled. Homeroom seemed like it would be fun. I had Fang to talk to and Lissa to annoy. How much more could a girl ask for?

The homeroom bell rang annoyingly loudly, and everyone stormed the exit at once. "Good bye, everyone. Have a good day!" Miss James called as we rushed away to our next classes.

I was glaring at my map again, trying to find Mr Lundom's room on its indecipherable grid, when I heard a low laugh behind me. Whirling around, I saw none other than Fang Rianild leaning against a row of lockers and watching me, amusement apparent in his black eyes. "Need some help?" he asked, taking a step towards me. Reluctantly, I nodded, and Fang took my schedule and map from me. I watched as he consulted the papers, and was surprised when he looked up, smiling slightly. "I have a lot of classes with you. First period, Mr Lundom in the science block. That is this way," Fang directed, walking off with my papers. I jogged to catch up, frowning slightly.

"How is Mr Lundom? Nice?" I asked, curious about the teachers. Fang shrugged.

"He's tolerable."

"Do we get to do any labs?" I pressed, wanting details.

"Yep." Fang kept walking, looking unconcerned about my growing frustration.

"Is Lissa in this class?" I asked, at least needing to know that. Fang stopped, frowning, and shook his head. I sighed in relief, following as he sped through the halls. "Thank the Lord. I wouldn't be able to deal with her twice in a row," I confessed. Fang's mouth quirked up in a slight grin, but maybe I was imagining it, it was gone so quickly. That boy had problems with smiling.

"Here it is," Fang announced, stopping in front of a wooden door stamped with the inscription, "8B." Fang pushed it open and led me inside. I frowned slightly, smelling the sterile air. This place felt like a hospital. I didn't like hospitals. A man in a white labcoat and sparse gray hair came up to me, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses absentmindedly.

"Hello, are you Maximum?" he asked, peering at me. I nodded stiffly, and hw smiled back. "Welcome. I am Mr Lundom, and I will be your science teacher this year. Please take a seat next to Jennifer Joy." He nodded at a girl sitting near the front. She frowned upon hearing her name, and I hoped she wasn't a stuck up pig like Lissa.

"Hi," I mumbled, dropping into the seat next to her. Immediately, she shed her frown, a real smile blooming on her pretty face instead.

"Hello! I'm Jennifer Joy, but please don't call me that. I mean, seriously! That name is soooo two decades ago. I go by JJ, but Mr Lundom doesn't seem to get that." JJ nodded over at the teacher, who was fiddling with a few glass phials. "He always calls me Jennifer Joy. Always!" she complained. I nodded understandingly, now realizing why she had been frowning before.

"That sucks. My name is Maximum, but call me Max," I replied, smiling back at JJ. I had been wrong about her, thankfully. She was actually really nice.

"Settle down, class!" Mr Lundom called, rapping the whiteboard with a yardstick. "It's time to begin."

**Hey peoples! This is TMI here, and I am sooooo sorry for th y updates. It's just that I have no computer, little time, and far too much procrastination power. XD  
Gazzy: so here's an uber long chapter!  
Nudge; yay! I loooove uber long chappies!  
Angel: but we aren't in it yet. -sad face-  
You will be, later, Ange. Don't worry!**

**Peace out! Review please! =D**

**~TMI~**


	5. Meet the Family Basically XD

**Dedicated to: MysteryTyper123, DaughterOfWolf, Fly On Maximum Taylor Ride (thanks!), padfootlover109 (Thank you for the review! I really appreciate your constant reviewing! =D =D =D), The Seagull (thanks for the review!), LilacRose6 (thanks for the review! Don't worry, IGGERS, you're gonna be blind! I'll think of a plausible reason why!), Bookworm2011 (thank you so much!), Bebeba (thankyouireallyappreciateit XD), Hayden3080, Bama-born-and-raised (I'm glad you likeys. Was this soon enough? I hope so!), Valkary (thank you for your wisdom, Princess.), Cadisha Ora Rhaksha Caden (did I get that right? And in response, YAY!), xXSurfingDreamsXx, feathers789, and Jace'n'FangLover (Thanks! And I love it when stories have soccer too! That's a lot of the reason why that's in here. =D)**

**I FIXED THE SPACING! =D 3/30/11 and 11/21/12**

I dribbled the ball carefully down the field, tapping it with the lightest of touches. Even at my cautious pace, I was flying past halfbacks and defenders on the other team like they were standing still. Some of them WERE standing still. I guess they hadn't expected me to trap their goalie's dropkick and control it. Now I had left my position as sweeper far behind, sprinting with the ball towards the opposing goal.

A small defender from the other team darted forward in an attempt to stop my progress towards her goal. Without breaking stride, I twirled in the complex move known as the Maradona, my feet keeping the ball steady as I pirouetted past the girl. My hair whipped harshly against my cheek as I turned, rolling the ball towards my left foot. As soon as I hit the goal box, I swept my foot towards the ball, connecting with it in a satisfying action. It was a good kick; I could feel it. Stopping stock still, I watched the ball curve through the bright blue sky, sailing towards the net. The goalie, a tall blond, leapt to try and block my shot, but I was sure she would miss. The ball flew gracefully towards her, seeming to be in slow motion. I could've sworn it was going in when-

"Miss Ride!"

I awoke from my dream with a start, my head flying up off the desk. Immediately, I covered a huge yawn and blinked at my very displeased history teacher. "Yes, Ms Helms?" I asked, trying not to let my yawn into my voice. I could hear some very distinctive laughter coming from the rest of the class. The teacher's frown grew.

"I don't know how they taught at your old school, Max, but here we do not fall asleep during lectures." Ms Helms' voice dripped with ice, but I brushed her warning off airily.

"I'm sorry, I had a late night last night," I explained, smiling at her apologetically. Ms Helms narrowed her eyes at me, but didn't say anything. Instead, she headed back to the front of the classroom. Immediately, the fake smile slid off my face and my head slumped onto my desk again.

"Ugh..." I groaned into my arms.

"Nice," a voice snickered to my left. I jerked my head up to glare at the speaker, but they didn't seem to notice. "I see you're already on Miss Hell's bad list."

"Miss Hell?" I asked, a smile forming on my face against my will.

The boy grinned back. "Yep. Fitting, am I right?" I nodded, laughing quietly. I took the chance to study the boy more closely.

The nicknamer had spiky, strawberry-blond hair, a pale complexion, and ice blue eyes. The boy seemed tall, and his arms were long and wiry. He was dressed in a white hoody over a green shirt, gray jeans, and converse, and there didn't seem to be any binders or pencils around his desk. Suddenly, the boy's carefree face morphed into an expression of resignation. "You nodded, didn't you?" he asked, sounding bored. Surprised, I raised an eyebrow, but he seemed to be waiting for an answer.

"Uh, yeah. Why? Is there a problem with that?" I asked, slightly confused. The boy sighed, then abruptly changed the subject.

"My name is Iggy. You're 'Miss Max Ride', right?" Iggy confirmed.

"Yep," I replied, craning my neck to glance over at Miss Helms. Iggy noticed, a wicked grin forming on his pale face.

"Miss Hell never notices when people talk, so you don't have to worry. Honestly, I'm surprised she noticed you had fallen asleep," Iggy admitted. I pushed him lightly, grinning.

"She woke me up right when I was going to score, too!" I whined, pouting. Iggy laughed, turning to face me in his seat.

"What sport were you dreaming about?" he asked, his cloudy blue eyes sparking with interest. I grinned, happy to be able to talk about my favorite subject.

"Well, soccer, of course! It's just the best sport ever, that's all." I glanced down at my binder, which I had been using as a pillow. Grimacing, I wiped a trace of saliva off my science notes. "Eww, I drooled on my papers," I complained. Iggy snickered.

"That's the price you have to pay when you powernap during history!" he scolded, mimicking Miss Helms. I laughed out loud, drawing a couple stares. Iggy grinned, waving at some of them. "So, what brings you here to our humble school, Miss Ride?"

"Job switch" I replied, "My sister's father left our mom when we were younger, so our mom always moves around trying to find better jobs. She's a veteranarian, and pretty respected in her field."

"Your sister's father? Not yours?" Iggy clarified, looking curious. I nodded.

"My biological father Jeb left my mom when I was just about eight months old. Almost immediately though, she met another man, and married him. Ten months later, my dearest baby sister Ella Cynthia Martinez was born. Ella's dad never liked me very much, since I refused to change my name to Martinez, Batchelder, or Jones, which was his last name. It irritated him to no end, which was pretty entertaining."

"Where did you get Ride from, then?" Iggy interjected, not shy in the least. I didn't mind; it wasn't as if I was hiding anything. Iggy seemed like a good guy.

"I didn't want Batchelder, 'cause Jeb sounded like a jerk for leaving my mom. I didn't want Jones, 'cause Ella's dad wasn't my favorite guy. I didn't want Martinez 'cause it just didn't_feel_ right. Then one day I was reading a book, and the name Sally Ride jumped out at me. She was amazing. I liked her, so I adopted her name," I explained. "My mom thought it was really cool. She didn't mind at all." Absentmindedly, I doodled a sketch of a soccer ball in the margins of the 'notes' I was taking.

"That's cool," Iggy declared after a moment of silence. "I kinda chose the name Iggy. My real name is Jonathan, but it never seemed to fit me. When I was little, I said I wanted to be, 'biggy like Daddy!' People called me Biggy for awhile, kind of jokingly, but it evolved into Iggy, and everyone calls me that now."

"That's a fun story," I told Iggy, smiling slightly. "Poor little Jonny wanted to be biggy!"

"Shut up," Iggy ordered, half-smiling. I smirked, and was about to reply when the bell rang. "Hey, do you want to sit with me and my friends at lunch? There's plenty of room at the lunch table," Iggy offered. I smiled as I stood up, happy at the prospect of not sitting alone.

"I'd love to. Come on, Iggers! I'm starving!" I exclaimed, hurrying out of the classroom. Iggy scowled, closing his pale blue eyes and navigating the hallways with them shut.

"Don't call me that," he grumbled, maneuvering expertly past a couple making out against the lockers. I watched in awe as he walked quickly through the hall with his eyes closed. It was very impressive. I couldn't walk through my room with the lights off without bumping into something, and here was Iggy, walking blindly through a highschool hallway without the slightest of troubles. He stopped suddenly, and turned to look back. "You coming, Max?" he asked, looking puzzled. I snapped out of my trance, hurrying to keep up with him. At six feet, Iggy was about five inches taller than me. Therefore, his legs were longer, and I was kept scurrying all the way to the quad, where everyone sat at blue plastic picnic tables, eating their lunches and talking with friends.

"IGGY!" A girl's voice shrieked. He flinched, and I grimaced as I recognized the voice. It was my least favorite person at this school so far, and she kept showing up absolutely everywhere. That's just my awful luck coming into play.

"Lissa dearie. How nice to see you again!" Not. I smiled a sickly sweet smile at her, and she attempted to glare back. Instead, she looked constipated.

"Stay out of this, Maxie-poo," Lissa snarled, tossing her red waves over her shoulder. I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, although I was boiling at the name she had called me. That girl will not live long if she keeps treating me like crap. No one ever does. A wicked smile grew on my face at the very thought. Lissa, however, was blissfully oblivious to my bloodthirsty thoughts, and instead was pouting at Iggy. "Iggy Fields, why on earth did you kiss me yesterday?" Lissa shrieked, ignoring my presence. I was shocked; why would Iggy want to kiss a girl like Lissa? He didn't seem like one of the guys who would like Lissa.

Iggy smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "If I remember correctly, you kissed me," Iggy pointed out calmly, apparently enjoying Lissa's anger. The redhead stamped her foot, looking about ready to scream.

"You made me lose my boyfriend!" Lissa growled, seeming angry rather than upset. Iggy still looked calm, and amusement danced in his pale eyes. I didn't blame him. Lissa's frustration was rather entertaining, after all.

"Au contraire, ma stupide fille," Iggy began, looking mischievous.

"You did that by yourself. Fang got tired of your 'flirtatious' tricks, don't you understand that?" Lissa's jaw dropped. Iggy turned, continuing towards his destination. I was about to follow him when there was suddenly a flawless French manicure digging into my shoulder.

"My threat still stands," Lissa hissed in my ear. "Stay away from Fang. I'll get him back again, and I don't want you interfering."

I smiled at her, pushing her hand roughly off my shoulder. "Don't touch me. And, from what I've gathered, Lissy, you aren't getting your Fangy back. Bye!" With that, I strode away, my head held high and my arms tensed. I didn't know why, but for some reason Lissa really got to me. Maybe it was just her similarities to Brigid, maybe it was something else...

"Yo Max! Over here," Iggy called, glancing a couple feet to my left. I turned to see what he was looking at, but there was nothing, just a trashcan. Strange.

When I reached the table Iggy was sitting down at, I looked around at the occupants. There was Fang, a boy with blonde hair, one with brown, JJ, and two other girls. They all looked at me curiously, except for Fang and Iggy, who had started on their lunches. When Iggy noticed the silence, he looked up, waving his hands around. "Well, go on everybody. Introduce yourselves!"

That seemed to be the cue line, because everyone immediately tried to introduce themselves at once. I felt slightly claustrophobic as one of the girls pulled me down next to them, but pushed the feeling aside. Instead of fleeing, I smiled hesitantly at the girl. She grinned back, and immediately started talking.

Wow. This girl had stamina. She talked fast, hard, and nonstop, smiling all the way through.  
Again. Wow!

**Fang's POV**

I had to hide a small smile as I watched Max being stuffed into the space between Nudge and JJ. She looked mildly panicked, but apparently discarded the feeling in favor of a grin. That started Nudge off, and when she starts talking, she doesn't stop.

"Hi! My name is Monique, but no one calls me that 'cause it never seemed to fit me. Instead my friends call me Nudge! We don't really have any idea why, it just happened one day when I had fudge in my lunch and there was a cat being chased around by a seagull and Iggy pushed me into the water fountain and yeah, it was really weird. No one knows exactly why my nickname is Nudge. I already said that, didn't I? But yeah! I'm Nudge!" Surprisingly, Nudge's ramble was fairly short, although confusing and hard to follow. As always.

Max nodded, attempting to process all the information. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she thought, I noticed, quietly examining her.

Max was definitely pretty. Her long blondish-brownish hair was streaked with long strands of pale gold, and it gleamed in the sunlight. Her skin was golden, tanned darker on her upper arms. Max's eyes were brown, like milk chocolate, but they were constantly shifting with emotion, which I found interesting. Lissa's eyes were always so boring, staying in their dull green glimmer constantly. Max's eyes were practically dancing, never the same for longer than a couple seconds.

Wait a second. Why was I comparing Max to Lissa? I was confusing myself.

Shaking my head, I tuned back into the table conversation. Apparently, introductions had already been made, because Max was talking freely with JJ, Nudge, Terra, and Iggy. Jake and Vlasis were discussing some new cheat they had discovered on the video game they both played, and didn't seem interested in the group conversation. However, I was.

"So she was basically a clingy bitch to him?" Max clarified, glancing at me. Iggy nodded, looking grim. "So why did he stay with her?" she pressed, sounding confused. Iggy shrugged.

"Ask him," he offered, taking another bite of his sandwich. Max turned to me, looking completely at ease. JJ, Nudge and Terra looked at me expectantly, holding their food poised by their mouths.

"Yo Fangles, why did you date Lissa for so long?" Max asked me. My jaw dropped, and I turned to glare at Iggy. Of course, he didn't notice, continuing to eat his lunch. "Well?" Max prompted. I sighed, not wanting to talk about it.

"I don't know," I muttered, hedging. "I had to deal with her already, so it didn't seem to matter how we were associated." Max looked exasperated with my vague answer.

Terra's jaw dropped, and she gasped audibly. Max glanced over at her, puzzled. In response, Terra pretended like she was going to faint. "Fang spoke in," she whispered dramatically. "Complete. Sentences. THE APOCOLYPSE IS NIGH! NIGH I SAY!" Terra bellowed, standing up with her granola bar in hand. I mentally facepalmed, outwardly unaffected by my weird friend's outburst. Terra didn't care about what other people thought about her, and her attitude often prompted embarrassing scenes in public.

"Yo Terrs, shut up," Iggy ordered, pulling her back down on the bench. Terra grumbled, but sat down.

Max looked amused by this display, but didn't say anything about it. Instead, she glanced at Iggy's lunch bag. There was a bag of Wheat Thins in it, which I happened to know that Iggy loathed. However, Max's eyes lit up when she spotted them. "Wheat Thins!" she cheered, reaching over and plucking them straight out of Iggy's bag. "Ooh, Wheat Thins! I love these things! Can I have them Igs?" she pleaded. "Please?"

"I had Wheat Thins?" Iggy asked, disgusted. "Eww, take them all, Max. I hate those things."

Max smiled, tearing the bag open immediately. Suddenly though, she stopped. "Wait, why didn't you know you had Wheat Thins?" Max asked, confused. "They were sitting right in front of you."

"That's slightly obvious, Max," I pointed out. She frowned.

"No it's not," Max insisted. "Why didn't you see them?" Suddenly, it clicked, and I scowled, lobbing my apple at Iggy. The fruit pegged him neatly on the shoulder, and he scowled back at me in reply.

"What was that for?" he whined, rubbing his shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell her?" I retorted, not about to be taken off track. Iggy's scowl deepened, and he crossed his arms.

"I thought it would be obvious," Iggy muttered, looking annoyed. I knew why. I had blown his cover, ruined the façade he tried to wear. Max looked completely confused, and the rest of the table was silent. Finally, Max couldn't stand not knowing, and blurted out, "What would be obvious? Look, I know I'm the new girl, and new girls are always confused on their first day. But what the heck is up with you guys? Secrets right and left! Jeez, you can't even eat lunch without a couple mysterious arguments coming into play. I'm going to find my sister," Max ranted, standing up. She grabbed her lunchbag and hopped over the bench, striding angrily away. I watched her leave, feeling my irritation with Iggy fade. Instead, it was replaced with regret. Iggy and I had very different views on one subject. That subject happened to be his sorest point, also, which didn't help things. At all.

Iggy's sore spot?

His blindness.

**MaxPOV**

I shoved my hair angrily into a messy ponytail as I walked quickly away from the lunch area. I was already beginning to regret my decision to leave. Ella would no-doubt be with the millions of new friends she would have miraculously met since homeroom. However, her friends were usually not my type of girls, the kind that were boy-crazy and obsessed with fashion. To be fair, Ella did have a few friends that I really liked back in Nevada, but I wasn't feeling optimistic about her new friends here.

These thoughts made me stop in my tracks, making me suddenly not wanting to find Ella. Where could I go? There was still another forty minutes left of lunch, and here I was with nothing to do-

My eye was immediately caught by the beautiful, graceful arc of a soccer ball flying through the air. I watched its path, captivated, as the ball landed swiftly and neatly into the top corner of the goal. Instantly, my binder was stowed under a bench, and I sprinted out to the soccer field. I couldn't help myself; I needed to play. "Hey!" I called to the group of boys crowded around the goal. They turned to look at me, watching as I slowed to a jog. "Hey, who shot that goal?" I asked boldly. I slid into place in a gap in their circle, not bothering to wait for an invitation.

The boys looked surprised, but answered me. "That was Gazzy. He's amazing," a redhead informed me, shoving a boy forward.

"I assume you are Gazzy?" I clarified. The boy nodded, reaching up to run a hand through his spiky blond hair. "That was a beautiful shot. Perfect."

"Thanks," Gazzy replied, smiling bashfully at me. "Do you play?"

"I don't play, I live. Soccer is the best!" I pumped my fist in the air, eliciting a couple laughs from the boys.

"Amen," Gazzy said, grinning. "Do you want to take a couple shots?"

"Sure. Do you guys just shoot, or do you scrimmage?" I asked, watching the redhead who identified Gazzy retrieve the ball from the net.  
"Both. We warm up with shooting, and scrimmage for the rest of lunch. And I'm just warning you, there is no mercy here."

"Oh, that's no problem. I won't show you any mercy either," I replied swiftly. Gazzy and his friends laughed, and we lined up about  
twenty feet away from the goal. The redhead passed me the ball, and I trapped it under my left foot, rolling it to the exact spot I wanted. The boys watched quietly as the redhead crouched in goal, staring at the ball under my foot. I backed up a few steps, and took a running start towards the ball. As I slammed my left foot into the side of the ball, I knew immediately that I had hit it wrong. Predictably, the ball sailed up over the white crossbar of the goal. I watched it hit the ground ten feet behind the goal, bouncing merrily away. The redhead straightened, smiling at me. I heard the other boys laughing behind me, too, and turned to glare at them. "Now that's not very nice," I scolded them playfully, not actually very mad. My shot had been pretty laughable. Trust me to mess up my first impression on these soccer fanatics. Gazzy grinned cheekily.

"No mercy!" he chanted. The boys nodded, echoing him and slapping high fives. I shook my head, jogging out to retrieve the ball. I picked it up and wiped some of the mud off, before turning and dropkicking the ball back to the boys. I walked back slowly, watching as Gazzy lined the ball up for another perfect shot on the redhead. The boy pretended to start crying at the second goal scores on him, and Gazzy clapped him on the shoulder before he got up again, grinning. The other five boys each took shots on goal too, and two of them scored. The other three's shots were caught neatly by the redhead. He was actually a good goalie, but the boys were also really good shots. By now I had figured out who the good players in this group were. Overall, everyone here was a great player. However, Gazzy was spectacular, scoring with practically every shot he took. The other two boys who had scored on the redhead were pretty good, too, and the last three seemed to be good. Maybe shooting just wasn't their forte.

After a couple more shots on the redhead, there seemed to be a silent decision made. Four boys stood together, the redhead among them. Gazzy stood with the other two facing the redhead's group. He glanced over at me, nodding, and I took my new place next to him. "You'll be on my team," Gazzy directed. "Any questions?"

Another blond boy snickered, and Gazzy turned to him. "I've got a question, Gaz," he told him. "What's her name?"

Gazzy smiled, looking back at me. "Good question, Matt. What IS your name?"

"I'm Max."

"This will be confusing, then. He's also Max," Gazzy informed me, nodding at the redhead. I shrugged.

"You can call me Maximum, then. That's my full name."

"Really? Sweet," Gazzy commented. "My real name is Zephyr, but everybody calls me Gazzy."

"Please don't ask why," the other blond interjected before I could say a word. He shuddered as Gazzy smirked self-importantly. "It brings back bad memories."

"You ladies done gabbing?" The other Max called, walking over to us. "Can we start playing already?"

"You're on," I shot back before Gazzy could say anything. "Max versus Max. Excellent."

Max looked surprised. "Your name is Max?"

"Yeah, but my team is calling me Maximum so we won't get confused," I explained. Max nodded, smiling at this new development. "Shall we start?"

"Definitely."

"HIIII-YAAAAH!" Gazzy screeched, flying towards the ball. At the last second, he pulled his foot away and performed a nimble Maradona around Max, who ran to keep up with him. Gazzy shot off towards the goal, the other team complaining as they darted after him.

I had to hand it to these boys: they were fast, and they were good. It turned out that the boys who had missed their shots in the beginning were amazing defenders. Matt passed me the ball, and I dribbled carefully up the sideline. One of the boys ran at me, almost stealing the ball immediately. Mentally cursing, I Croifed around him, spinning to keep running towards the goal. Now I knew I couldn't manage getting past the other team by myself. Instead of trying to muscle my way past them, I called for backup. Gazzy had been running behind me diagonally as I made my way towards the other goal. Now I turned my head and made eye contact with him.

What happened next was really cool. The second I looked at Gazzy, I knew exactly what he was going to do, and what I would do. He moved further to the right of me as I barrelled up the left side of the field. As I expected, a defender came rushing at me. I feinted to the left, instead passing right to where Gazzy was waiting. He moved right, and I mirrored him, staying about ten feet apart from him as we traveled towards the other goal.

The defender ran towards Gazzy, and I dropped back slightly, maneuvering so he could pass again. Without so much as a glance in my direction, Gazzy sent the ball directly to my left foot, where I controlled it and continued on. We were in the goalbox now, tailed by the two defenders and a midfielder. Two were on Gazzy, while one tracked me, trying to get the ball away. Gazzy suddenly surged towards me, and I passed him the ball, falling back. He immediately passed it back to me, and I slammed my foot into the side of it, feeling the power of a good kick resonate in my leg.

The other Max sprinted back towards the goal from his position as a defender. He dove, trying to catch my shot before it went in, but failed. Instead, he slid into the net right alongside the ball, looking very surprised. I whooped loudly, running to slap high fives with Gazzy. He whooped back, grinning widely.

"That was wicked awesome, Maximum!" Gazzy yelled. I grinned back at him.

"I know! It was like a meeting of minds!" I agreed, still smiling as we jogged back to the other side of the half field we were playing on.

"You have to play on the school team this year! We would be unstoppable as forwards together!" Gazzy looked excited at the prospect. I frowned slightly.

"But there seem to be a few problems with that idea, my dear boy. For one, I am a girl, and you seem to be a boy" I pointed out. Gazzy stared blankly at me.

"So?"

"So we won't play on the same team!"

"Yeah we would," Gazzy argued, ruffling his hair again. "Here, there's just one team for guys and girls."

"Really?" I asked, surprised. I hadn't heard this before.

"Really," Gazzy confirmed. "Then what's another problem for me to solve, oh Maximum?"

"Well, I don't play forward," I confessed. Gazzy's blue eyes widened, and his jaw dropped dramatically.

"You can do moves like that, and you don't play forward?" he practically screamed. "That is a waste of talent!"

"I'm a midfield and a sweeper, and it's not my fault!" I protested. "I like those positions better."

"Well, if you make the school team, which you probably will, then you'll have to play forward sometimes," Gazzy ordered. I smiled wryly at him.  
"What makes you think I'll make the team?"

"You have to suck really badly to not get on," Gazzy explained, still smiling brightly. "Practically everyone who tries out makes the team, but who gets to play in games depends on skillage."

"Oh, I see." I fell silent for a moment, thinking this over. Maybe it would be fun, to play forward with Gazzy. He seemed like a nice guy, and had already proved he was an amazing soccer player. In my opinion, this was the perfect recipe for a good friend. "So, do you guys play soccer every day?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Nah, we'd probably kill ourselves if we did," Gazzy replied. "Max especially gets very competitive."

"Sounds like me."

"Perfect. Now we have a pair of Maxes. Just what I need!" Matt groaned from behind us. I whirled around and mock-glared at him.

"We can call you Max I and Max II!" another boy, Lucas, I think, added cheerfully.

"I call Max I!" I yelled swiftly. The other Max pouted, kicking the soccer ball up towards my head. I immediately headed the ball back towards him.

"I wanna be Max I!" Max argued. I shook my head.

"Nope. I called it already. You're now officially Max II," I teased. Max II, as he will know be known as, pouted again. Suddenly, the lunch bell rang, and we all looked at each other frantically.

"Break!" Gazzy yelled, sprinting towards the classrooms. I grinned, following him towards the edge of the field.

"Bye Max II!" I called behind me. He responded with a loud, rude word, and my grin grew. My feet pounded the ground quickly, and I leapt from grass to asphalt as the terrain changed from soccer field into hallways. Gazzy disappeared into the throng of people with a quick smile, and I was left alone to locate both my binder and my next class.

Oh, bother.

I fell into the seat beside Fang with a crash of binder and paper and sweaty teenage girl. It was the only seat left as I had stumbled into Art class, surprisingly not tardy, and I hadn't cared enough about my outburst at lunch to chance the teacher's wrath. There were several girls in the room who were glaring daggers at me. I had no doubt that they utterly wished to kill me and take my seat next to Fang. I had to admit, he was sort of cute.

I hadn't had time to fix my bedraggled ponytail, and now I was wishing I had. Fang was staring at me strangely, like he was analyzing me or something. "What?" I asked, shuffling my papers around. Fang shook his hand, taking his dark gaze away from my face at last. That was a relief. He was beginning to make me on edge.

"You have a powerful foot," Fang commented suddenly, in a very quiet tone of voice. "I saw you playing with Gaz and the others."

"You're friends with Gazzy?" I asked, slightly surprised. Fang nodded, his face a calm mask.

"He's a cool guy."

"Yeah. And talk about talent," I added. "That boy could wipe the field with me."

"I find myself doubting that," Fang mused, seemingly to himself. I frowned.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. Fang half-smiled, and I SWEAR I heard girls behind us sigh dreamily.

They all needed to get a life.

"THAT is supposed to mean that I think you're a pretty good player, Ride," Fang teased, his voice lilting as he spoke. I snorted.

"Thanks, I guess, but in my opinion, Gazzy is in a totally different league from me." I decided to fix my ponytail now, since the art teacher was taking an unusually long time to start class. I turned to face the walkway between desks, and bent over. Once I had pulled the grip from my hair, I shook it out, reveling in the sweet shampoo scent the damp tendrils emitted. I swung my hair back and forth a couple times, before sitting up quickly, and gathering my hair together. Fang watched quietly as I tied the hairband around my unruly locks. He was a very patient boy. However, when I had pulled the grip tight, he spoke again, his dark eyes on mine.

"Are you going to try out for the soccer team?" Fang asked, his voice soft and even. I smiled at the continuation of conversation. After all, soccer was the best thing in the world to talk about, and Terra had said Fang didn't talk much. He seemed to be talkative enough, in my opinion.

"Oh, that's a definite yes," I said instantly. Fang smiled slightly, and I unconsciously grinned back. Despite his all-black apparel and quiet demeanor, Fang was a very charismatic guy.

"That's great, 'cause I am too. It'll be nice to have another good player on the team," Fang replied, actually seeming sincere. My smile grew.  
"So when are try outs?" I asked, quickly looking down at my binder again.

"Next week."

"That soon?"

"Yep."

Scratch that thought about him being talkative. "So this is what Terra meant by one-to-three word sentences," I mused aloud. Fang smirked, but said nothing. We fell into a comfortable silence as I thought about the soccer try outs. It would be nice to be able to play on a team again so soon, but I was still kind of rusty from disuse. I had demonstrated my new lack of controlled shots at lunch, and knew I needed to work on that.

Finally, the art teacher came out, looking slightly flustered.

"I'm so sorry for the delay, class," she apologized, fixing her hair into a ponytail. "I had a little trouble with something. Let's begin now."

I smiled, happy that she had forgotten about the new student in her class. I didn't particularly like my presence being announced every hour. It would be nice to blend into this class. Fang passed me a stack of white drawing paper, and I took one before passing it to the girl at my left. "Today we are going to have a free-drawing period, as a reward for all those nice art history essays you worked so hard on," the teacher continued, still oblivious to my new-student-ness. "Good job! I had a nice time reading them, and you'll be getting your papers back soon. Go ahead now, and have fun drawing. More paper is available on my desk. Try to keep the talking to a minimum, though, please."

With that, she disappeared into a large closet which I assumed held the art materials. Fang had immediately began to draw once he received his paper, and was bent over it earnestly. "So you're Fang's friend?" A girl behind me asked. I turned around to face her, confused.

"Umm, yeah, I guess," I replied. "Why do you ask?"

"He said he was saving your seat for a friend," the girl said nonchalantly. "I was just wondering. My name is Amy."

"I'm Max," I told her, my mind working with this new information. Fang had saved me a seat, even after my angry kerfluffle at lunch? And how had he even known I had this class?

I mentally facepalmed. I had given him my schedule this morning, that's how. He must have looked over all my classes while he had it. Amy had started to draw again, so I turned back around and stared at my paper. I glanced at Fang out of the corner of my eye. He had a slight smile on his face as he sketched small, quick lines onto his paper. I smiled at this, then turned to my paper. Without quite knowing why, I sketched the curves of a face onto my paper, taking up the whole thing. My smile widened as I added in long lines of hair, and darkened the jaw line.  
Time flew past as I worked on the picture, erasing and redrawing. For some reason, I wanted this simple sketch to be perfect. I was so focused in on the small lines shading in the curve of the nose that I didn't hear the voice talking to me at first.

"Max."

I kept drawing in bliss, coloring in the intricate pattern of the iris.

"Max."

Wondering slightly at the annoying buzzing in my ear, I continued shading in the eye.

"Max!"

"WHAT?" I snapped, bolting upright in my seat. Everyone in the class turned to look at me, and I shrank back into my seat. Glaring at Fang, I repeated my question, quietly this time. "What?"

"I was wondering when you would hear me," Fang replied, grinning swiftly at me. I was shocked out of my post-drawing daze by the sudden appearance and disappearance of the bright smile.

"That doesn't answer my question," I shot back, somewhat testily. "What did you need?"

Fang's expression became calm and emotionless once more, although I could detect a hint of laughter far back in his dark eyes. "I wanted to see your drawing."

I could feel the blush creep up from the deepest confines of my soul, slowly working its stubborn way up into my cheeks. I never blushed. Ever. So why was I blushing now?

Ehehehe...

"Can I see it?" Fang asked again, softer this time. "I don't have to, if you don't want me to."

"Oh no, that's okay," I rushed to assure him. "Here." I thrust the paper at him, busying myself with sharpening the now nonexistent point of my pencil. I snuck a few peeks at Fang, wanting to see his reaction to my drawing. The reason I was blushing...

Well, I had kinda drawn Fang.

The picture was the side-view I had seen as I looked over at him before my pencil hit paper. The sun had been shining softly on his black hair, making it glow slightly. The eye I could see had been half closed, and partly covered in the long strands of hair blanketing his forehead. I had noted the two freckles he possessed on his cheek and jaw, and the firm line of his chin. Fang's mouth was slightly open as he gazed downwards, the concentration evident on his face. He had been working pretty hard on his drawing.

The attention to detail I had put into the picture was completely obvious, from the seperate, curving lines in his eyelashes to the shading of his skin tone. The drawing was nowhere near perfect, but it pleased me. Apparently, Fang liked it too, because a brighter smile than I had ever seen him show was gracing his face. Impulsively, I wished I could capture that smile in a drawing. It was a very nice smile. Fang was practically glowing.

"This is beautiful, Max," he murmured, his eyes still on my drawing. "I'm honored to be your subject."

My inconceivable blush grew, and a smile creeped onto my face.

"Thanks," I muttered back, overwhelmed by the sincerity of his words. "That means a lot to me."

Fang suddenly looked up from my picture, the bright smile lessened considerably, but still there. "Do you want to see mine?" he offered. I nodded, curious to see Fang's artistic talents.

The first page he had was filled with doodles; crossed swords, game controllers, an intricate set of stars, and a group of mini caricatures arguing with one another. I grinned as I recognized Nudge, Iggy, and Terra among the squabbling bunch. Fang had apparently gotten up from his desk without me noticing, because he had two other pages along with the first. The next paper I looked at was a sunset over an ocean wave. The wave carried two dolphins, and underneath them were other sea creatures. This picture was less doodle-y, and more professional. The last page depicted...

Me.

My breath caught slightly as I viewed this final picture. It was another more professional-looking drawing, more realistic than his argumentive caricatures. I was playing soccer, poised to take a shot. Balanced on my right foot as my left was pulled back to kick, I looked utterly professional. My arms were outstretched for balance, the fingers on each hand carefully drawn in seperately. The messy ponytail I had fixed was blowing behind me, strands flying around my face and in the air. There was a focused look on my face as I stared at the ball at my feet, my eyes serious. The clothes I had on in the picture were the same ones I was wearing, from my double tank tops to the CareBear-in-pants-form skinny jeans. The picture was totally realistic, and I was impressed. Very impressed. "Wow, Fang," I breathed, my eyes still scanning the drawing. "This is way better than mine."

"You just like it better because it's of you," Fang teased. I waved a hand at him impatiently, finally looking up from his drawing.

"Well, maybe," I teased. Then I paused, reverting back to being serious. "It's still amazing," I insisted, handing him the paper.

"I saw you score on Max." Fang looked at me, no expression visible. "That was a nice shot. It was where I got my idea for your picture."

"Thanks," I replied softly, suddenly bashful. Abruptly, the bell rang, and I was startled out of my thoughts. Tucking the drawing of Fang into my binder, I walked out of the classroom. Fang went down the same hallway as me, and I followed him all the way to my locker. He stopped walking when he saw me, looking perplexed.

"Did you need something?" Fang asked, leaning against my locker. I pushed him gently aside, grinning.

"Yeah, my locker," I replied, starting to turn the dial. "What did you need?"

"My locker," he shot back. "I'm right here." Fang gestured at one of the other lockers in the alcove.

"Okay then."

"Yes. Okay."

"I've got it."

"You better got it."

"Nice grammar."

"Thanks."

"Where'd you get it? Walmart?"

"No, the Dollar Store. Get it right."

I started to smile; this argument was ridiculous. Oddly, I felt comfortable with Fang, to be talking like this. Even though I had just met him, it seemed like I'd known him forever. Fang seemed to think so too, because there was a small smile on his face as he swiftly opened his locker and began shoveling books into his bag. It took me a little longer to unlock mine, this being the third time I had ever opened it. Fang was done by the time I had taken my backpack out. He straightened, swinging his black backpack onto his back, and looking at me. I pretended not to notice as I began putting my binders into my backpack. "So..." Fang trailed off. I looked up at him, grinning slightly. "Bye."

"Bye," I replied, watching him walk away. Once his dark form had disappeared into the crowd of highschoolers, I finished packing my bag. I shut the locker door and turned around, only to find my dear friend Lissa in my face.

"I told you to stay away from Fang," she growled, looking angry. "He is mine."

"Uh, no he's not," I retorted, hefting my bag onto my back. "Why don't you get lost, Lissa dearest? I'm not going to avoid Fang just to please you."

"I don't need to leave. My locker is right here," Lissa spat, pushing me aside to get to the locker next to mine in the alcove. I mentally groaned, walking away from her. That was the perfect end to my day; a possessive bitch who reminded me far too much of Brigid having the locker next to mine. Just. Peachy.

As I walked out the wide double doors of the school, I was attacked by a wild Ella. "MAX!" she shrieked, tackling me. I managed to stay on my feet, but still bent over with her weight. I didn't mind, though. Ella was just enthusiastic.

"Ells! How was your first day here?" I asked, smiling as I deposited her back on her own feet. She bounced up and down with excitement, her backpack thumping against her back.

"OMG it was amazing! I love it here already! The bad thing is that I don't have any classes with you, but that's okay. I met this really cool girl named Nudge, and she's awesome!" Ella gushed, skipping after me as I started to walk home.

"Yeah, I know Nudge," I told her. "I sat with her at lunch today."

"Isn't she sooo cool? I love her!" Ella exclaimed, a big grin on her face. I smiled back.

"Yeah, Nudge is pretty awesome," I agreed. "Who else did you meet?"

"Oh, I met a lot of people, but I want to know about your day!" Ella insisted, diligently checking both ways before we crossed a street. As we hit the sidewalk on the other side, I began to tell her about Fang, Iggy, Gazzy, and Terra.

"Soccer try outs are next week?" Ella asked, looking excited. I nodded. "Yes! I can't wait!"

"Gazzy is a soccer prodigy," I told her. "He's got a perfect shot every time he kicks the ball."

"That's pretty cool. Will I get to meet him?"

"Sure. You'll probably see him at the try outs, anyway." We walked up the path to our new house, and I fished around in my backpack for my key. Before I could find it, however, the door swung open. Mom was standing there, beaming as she looked at us.

"Hi girls! How was your day?" she greeted us. Ella zoomed into the house, chattering happily about classes and girls she had met. Mom smiled, following her into the kitchen. I dropped my backpack by the door, sighing as I started up the staircase. At least now I could relax. The homework load was nothing I couldn't handle, and I wanted some time to think.

As soon as I entered my room, I shed the tight, CareBear-in-disguise jeans, and slid into a pair of soccer shorts. I sat down on my new bed, ready to relax, but Ella had ran into my room. "Max!" she sang. "Guess what?"

"What?" I asked dully, burying my face in my pillow.

"The Rianilds invited us over for dinner! Come into my room so I can get you ready!" Ella looked at my change in pants distastefully. "If you don't want to wear the jeans, I can always find you a skirt," she threatened. Immediately, I jumped up and grabbed the jeans off the floor.  
"I'll wear them, I'll wear them! Jeez," I grumbled. Ella smiled, satisfied. She walked out of my room, and I exhaled loudly. At least she hadn't ragged on me about my makeup-less face; the eyeshadow she had applied in the morning had been sweated off during the scrimmage at lunch. I hadn't bothered to 'reapply', preferring her wrath to the possibility of seeing Lissa in the bathrooms.

"And don't think you've gotten away with not redoing your makeup today!" Ella called from the hallway.

Well, crap. I sighed as I slung the CareBear jeans over my shoulder and exited my room. Something else tugged at my mind as I made my way to my sister's room; Ella had said the Rianilds invited us for dinner.

Now where had I heard that name before?  
**  
Hi people! This is a true MEGA CHAPTER, but I just didn't want to stop writing. XD I love this story. Do you love it? If you do... REVIEW!  
Gazzy: THAT RHYMED!  
Angel: Nice, TMI.  
Ooh, I am skilled. Unintentional rhyming! Do I get extra points for that?**

**Review please! =D**

**~TMI~**


	6. Oh YEAH THAT Rianild

**This will be kind of a long AN. YOU GUYS ARE SO LUCKY THAT I AM A VERY INSPIRED WRITER AND A VERY PROCRASTINATING STUDENT! I write so freaking much of this story that you get fairly frequent and really long chapters! I sacrifice schoolwork and soccer practice for this. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY! XD BTW THIS CHAPTER WAS SIXTEEN PAGES LONG ON WORD! **_**SIXTEEN! You better be freaking happy. XD XD XD**_

**MY OH SO BELOVED Reviewers: ****The Seagull**** (you better get that spine checked out... XD thanks SiSi!), ****Bookworm2011****, ****DaughterofWolf**** (thank you so much. It's nice to know I have reviewers like you! =D), ****Bebeba, VivaLaKatee**** (yeppers! Fang is my little Rianild. Poor Max has an awful memory... XD), ****Fly On Maximum Taylor Ride**** (thank you so much! It WAS a really long chapter, wasn't it? XD), ****padfootlover109**** (150 points? I feel special. Thanks for yet another great review! Do you have an account here? Cause I'd really like to talk to you.), ****LilacRose6**** (yeppers, IGGERS! the nickname is spreading like the plague! I am pleased to meet you, Na. Thanks for the review everyone!), ****Wize Gurl1 Percy iz hot**** (I'm honored to know you might start reading MRFF because of my story! Thank you so much!), ****Elise the Amazing**** (Biggy... XD), ****Bama-born-and-raised**** (go soccer!)**

**There's a tiny thing in here that I'm hoping The Seagull will catch. No one else will, except maybe Dark Skitty Power. (Check Max's middle name!)  
Enjoy. =)**

Rianild... Where had I heard that name before? It itched at my mind like an... like an itch, I guess. I never was a very descriptive person.

"MAX! Come ON already!" Ella yelled. I groaned loudly, slowly marching into her room. She scowled at me from her dressing table. "Jeez, Max. I'm trying to be nice!"

"By yelling at me and forcing me into outfits I don't like?" I asked incredulously, plopping into the mini stool by the table. Ella shook her head vigorously.

"Oh no, it's not like that! You see, I'm just-"

"Helping me bring out my 'natural' beauty," I finished, putting air quotes around 'natural.' Ella crossed her arms, pouting at me playfully.

"Well, great minds think alike," she sighed. I grinned back at her, throwing my hands up dramatically.

"And then, there's ours!" I cried out, twirling around on the stool. "Hey, this stool is fun to spin around on, Ells." I continued to spin, tucking my legs under the edge and twirling quickly around in circles.

"Stop that, Max," Ella ordered, digging through the dreaded makeup bag once more. "You're going to murder my stool."

"You're going to murder my face," I retorted. Ella snorted in a very unladylike fashion.

"No, I'm saving it from you. You don't even wash your face every night! Heck to that, you NEVER wash your face!" Ella exclaimed, looking unreasonably irritated.

"But I don't get acne or anything," I pointed out. "So why should I? I have naturally exfoliated skin!"

Ella facepalmed, causing me to smirk. "Don't remind me," she groaned. "It's just not fair." Ella was still digging around in her makeup bag, so I took the opportunity to glance around her new room. The beanbags she had bought yesterday were piled in one corner, at the vertex of the two unpainted walls. The two walls she and Mom had managed to finish were painted with swirly patterns of glitter over Passion Sunrise and Mellow Notes, a pink-ish color and a peachy one. Her purple sleeping bag lay on top of a bare mattress in the middle of  
the room, and clothes were already neatly hung in her closet. I shook my head in wonder; Ella was already half-moved in. I was still three-quarters packed.

Whoops.

Aw, to heck with it. Ella was always more orderly than me. I was fine with having my clothes packed in boxes, but it had probably irked her the entire trip from Nevada that her shirts were getting wrinkled. As if to prove my point, Ella took a moment to peek into her closet, frowning at the shirts hung neatly on the rack. MY shirts were still packed in one of the many boxes I hadn't bothered to label. I fought back another smirk, knowing she wouldn't take kindly to it.

I was pulled from my thoughts about Ella's and my differences by Ella herself. She had drawn herself up to her full height, about five foot five, and was glaring at me mightily. "Maximum Ride, where is my eyeshadow that I lent you?" Ella demanded, looking fiercer than I had ever seen her before. She was dang possessive over her makeup.

I tried to think of where I had left her eyeshadow, but kept getting distracted by the name floating around in my mind. Rianild, Rianild, my mind sang. Shut up, shut up, I'm kinda trying to think, I sang back, irritated.

Oh great. Now I'm having voices in my head. Perfect.

Ella had been staring at me the entire time I had been zoning out, and she finally got impatient. She turned on her heel and exited her room. I jumped off the spinning stool and followed her as she headed downstairs to where I had dumped my backpack. "Did you leave it in your jacket pocket?" she asked, kneeling down and rifling through my backpack. I shook my head, watching her pull books and papers from my bag. "Is it in one of your binders?" I shrugged, again choosing not to verbally respond. Oh dear Lord. Fang was rubbing off on me. As Terra would say, the Apocalypse is NIGH!

Ells once more pulled me from my strange, apocalyptic thoughts. "Is it in here?" She held up my art and history binder in one hand. I shrugged again, honestly having no idea where I'd put her eyeshadow. I misplaced things easily. Ella opened my binder, first unzipping the pencil pouch clipped inside. The eyeshadow wasn't inside, so she began thumbing through the papers to see if the makeup compact was somehow lodged inside. Suddenly, she stopped flipping papers, her attention caught by one particular page. "Oh Maxi dearest," she sang, her voice sugary sweet. My heart sank. Ella only used that voice when she had found something particularly nasty to tease me about. What could she have found in my binder that made her use that dreaded tone of voice?

My question was answered when Ella plucked a paper from a pocket, waving it around triumphantly. "Who is THIS hottie? And why did you draw him?"

"What are you talking about, Ells?" I asked, honestly confused for a second. "I didn't draw any hot-" I stopped, my heart sinking further.

Of course Ella had to find my drawing of Fang. Of course. She was smirking triumphantly as she studied the picture. I lunged for it, but Ella had anticipated that. She nimbly twirled to the side, racing up the stairs. "Max's got a crush on a hottie! Max's got a crush on a hottie!" Her voice rang merrily off the walls, and I felt that awful blush creep out of my soul again. I swore loudly as I ran to catch up with my devil of a sister.

"Maximum Ride! Watch your language!" Mom scolded from the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and quickened my pace.

"Sorry Mom! Gotta go kill Ells!" I called back, hearing the sister in mention giggle from in front of me. I scowled, speeding up even more. "Get back here with my artwork, you idiot!"

Ella snickered, pulling a quick turn in front of me. I skidded on the carpet, cursing again.

Luckily for me, Mom didn't hear the second time.

I almost slammed into the wall as I turned the corner, but managed to twist my body around in time. I just nicked the wall with my left instep, and swore AGAIN. "ELLA MARTINEZ! GET! FREAKING! BACK! HERE!"

"Why'd you draw the hot guy? Scratch that, who even IS the hot guy?" Ella asked over her shoulder, not slowing down.

"That's my friend!" I protested. "Just my friend!"

"That only adds to his hotness," Ella sang.

I wrinkled my nose at her. "That is nasty," I announced.

"No, it's zesty."

"ELLA!"

Ella laughed at the horrified expression gracing my face. She looked back down at the drawing, a mischievous smile on her lips. There was something else that Ella wasn't letting on, I was sure. I just wished I knew what it was she was hiding. Suddenly, though, the crooked grin on her face morphed into a respectful look. "Jeez Max, you're too talented. This drawing is amazing! It's like you captured the guy in a photo, except, in pencil!" Ella gushed. I grinned modestly, not wanting to agree, but not wanting to argue either. I liked drawing, and this was definitely the best I had ever done. Fangles was a good subject. He had barely changed expression at all as he drew, leaving me with a practically still inspiration. I felt like patting him on the head and handing him a treat.

"Thanks, Ells. I worked really hard on this picture," I admitted, taking the paper back. It was a little wrinkled now from its adventure through the halls, but nothing was ruined.

"I can tell," Ella replied frankly. She looked exasperated all of a sudden, though, glaring at me. "But I still can't find my eyeshadow!"

I had to use all my strength to hold back a snicker. Ella still noticed, though, with her creepy twin powers. She shoved me. "Stop laughing! This is serious!"  
"ELLA MARTINEZ!" Mom called from downstairs, sounding

irritated. Immediately, both of us sprang up and ran for the staircase. I carefully set the drawing of Fang down in the doorway to my room before following Ella. I slid down the banister, while Ella rolled her eyes and chose to run down the actual stairs. "Ella!" Mom repeated.

"Yeah Mom?" Ella answered, rushing into the kitchen. "What did you need?"  
Mom held up a small green object in one hand, leaning against the kitchen counter. There was an exasperated expression on her face. "What did I always tell you about leaving your makeup lying around the house?"

Ella instantly turned around and glared at me. I smiled wickedly back at her, having realized what the object Mom was holding actually was. "Bad Ells," I scolded, trying to hold back yet another rogue snicker. "How dare you leave your makeup lying around!"

"Yes, Ella. Don't leave your eyeshadow on my counter," Mom continued unaware of the evil expression on my face. "I'm going to keep this for a week as a reminder."

"But Max was the one who left it there!" Ella complained. I swiftly wiped all traces of a smirk off my face, adopting an innocent expression. Mom didn't even turn around to inspect my face for guilt. Instead, she laughed.

"You expect me to believe that Maximum Riesra Ride used your makeup and left it on the kitchen counter?" Mom asked plainly. "As if."

Ella glared at me helplessly, and I flashed her a smile. Finally, she just turned and stormed back out of the kitchen. I skipped lightly after her, unperturbed by her moody reaction. "Thanks, Max," Ella grumbled, running up the staircase. "You made me lose my eyeshadow!"

I followed her, nimbly dodging the foot she stuck out to trip me at the top of the stairs. "Relax, Ells. It's not like that's your only eyeshadow."

"But it's my favorite one!" she insisted, turning to enter her room. I lolled against the doorway, watching her dig around in the closet.

"Oh, just deal with it," I replied lazily, absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair between my fingers. Ella emerged from her closet, looking evilly triumphant.

"Oh, I'll deal with it fine. Especially since you're going to wear a skirt to the Rianilds' house," Ella retorted, tossing a small bundle of black cloth at me. I blanched before instinctively catching the bundle. Ella smirked as she watched me shake out the folds, her evil expression growing more and more evil as she observed the horror on my face.

"Ella!" I whined. "This won't even cover to mid-thigh!"

"You've worn shorter soccer shorts before, haven't you? Just deal with it." Ella was right, I HAD worn shorter soccer shorts before, but those were soccer shorts! That's a completely different area which I am within my comfort zone wearing. Mom always joked that I was born in soccer shorts.

"Don't do that!" I snapped at Ella.

"Do what?" she asked innocently, knowing perfectly well what I meant.

"Don't use what I say against me," I clarified, gnashing my teeth. Ella's smirk widened even more.

"It's a free country. And this is payback! You got my eyeshadow taken away, you have to wear a skirt for a few hours," Ella reasoned. I scowled at her, not moving from where I stood.

"I'm not wearing a skirt," I ground out.

"Yes you are," Ella shot back.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"There's no way in hell I'm wearing a skirt."

"Well there must be a way in heaven, 'cause you're about to put one on," she retorted swiftly.

I had to crack a smile at Ella's response. "That was a good comeback," I admitted.

Ella smiled sweetly. "Thank you."

"But there's still no way I'm wearing a skirt," I added.

"Max!"

"Ella!" I mimicked. Ella frowned at me.

"Max, if you wear this skirt, I swear I'll never steal from your supposedly secret chocolate stash again," Ella told me solemnly. I gasped.

"You were the one that took my chocolate? I blamed Rachel for that!" I narrowed my eyes. "You owe me at least one super-sized Twix bar, missy!"

"Fine," Ella agreed. "But you have to wear this skirt."

I looked back at the skirt. It wasn't horribly awful, made of a plain, silky material. BUT, it was also short and black and swishy; definitely not my type. However, I would get my chocolate back if I wore it for just a few hours...

"Fine," I relented. Ella squealed happily, jumping up and down.

"Thank you Max! I won't even make you wear makeup now! Let me just go find you a skirt and some shoes, and you'll be ready to go!" Ella bounced back towards her closet, looking unreasonably excited. I sighed, slinging the skirt over my shoulder. At least now I wouldn't have to wear the CareBear-in-disguise jeans. I would have to find a way to burn those.

Forty minutes later saw me dressed up and ready to go. I stood in front of Ella's full-length mirror. Ella was standing behind me, a wide grin on her face. "Well?" she demanded at last. "Whaddya think?"

I gazed wordlessly at my reflection. No, I was not having a teenage-girlish-girly-barf-worthy-epiphany about how I was so beautiful and would wear short frilly skirts for the rest of my life. I'm not starring in one of those makeover tv shows, I'm Maximum Ride. In fact, I felt oddly exposed in the outfit Ella had chosen for me. In my opinion, I was too dressed up for dinner at a new neighbor's house. The clingy, swirly black skirt Ella had bribed me into wearing was tight on my hips, and fell lightly down my legs. I had been right; the hem of the skirt was a good inch above mid-thigh. My only comfort was the fact that my somewhat-considerate sister had allowed me to wear black bike shorts underneath, so I wasn't in danger of flashing anyone.

Ella had paired the skirt with an open, dark green button-up shirt and a lacy black tank top. The green button-up was short-sleeved and plain, left open on the top four or five buttons to expose the black tank top underneath. My hair had been wrangled into a sleek French braid, and tied with a dark green band.

"Well?" Ella prompted again. I took a deep breath, and looked back at her.

"Thanks, I guess," I replied softly. She immediately came over and put her arms around my shoulders. Smiling, I hugged her back. My sister could be a pain, but I wouldn't trade her for anything.

Most of the time.

"Will you permit me to pick out high heeled shoes for you?" Ella asked timidly, her voice muffled against my shoulder. I shrugged, releasing my grip on her.

"Go ahead. I don't really care anymore," I admitted. Ella's eyes lit up, and she smiled at me as I exited her room.

"Hey Max?" she called as I stepped into the hallway. I turned around to look back at her.

"Thanks for letting me dress you up."

"You're welcome, Ells," I replied. "Just don't get used to this. I have my own free will of dressing too."

Ella sighed. "I know," she groaned resignedly. I laughed, before making my way back to my new room. Plopping heavily down on the bare mattress, I gazed in the mirror across from me. An almost unfamiliar girl stared evenly back. I had to admit, she was kinda pretty. But was she me?

I flopped backwards, staring up at the ceiling. I didn't have time to think deep, philosophical questions. I had homework to do. Realizing this, I dragged myself off my bed and back downstairs to get my backpack. Even though teachers loved introducing the new girl to the rest of the students and babying them around during class, they still gave me a heck of a lot of homework. I sighed, cracking a binder open and getting to work. It would probably take Ella about fifteen more minutes to get ready, so I had enough time to get started on my algebra. Then, we would be off to the Rianilds.

Thinking about my outfit, I hoped dearly that the son Mom had mentioned yesterday didn't go to my school. I hoped he wouldn't know me, and wouldn't try to talk to me too much. I hoped he wouldn't try to compliment my outfit.

Scratch that. I just hoped I would be able to kick his butt if he bothered me. Smiling at this thought, I immersed myself in the wonders of variables.

**O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O**

"Max! We're ready to go now!" Mom called from the kitchen. I shut my algebra book and stuffed it back in my backpack before following the sound of her voice. Ella stood with Mom, and they were both slightly dressed up, just like me. Mom wore a red and pink floral blouse with tailored black pants and heeled silver sandals. There was a hint of green eyeshadow and mascara on her face, but they accented her warm brown eyes nicely.

My sister looked as pretty as always. She wore a green skirt that was identical to the one I had on, except that it fell farther down on Ella, since I had longer legs than her. Paired with the skirt was a white and silver blouse with a sheer, filmy green scarf over it. On her feet were white high heels that made her tall enough that I was finally able to look her in the eye flat-footed. I never understood why Ella liked to play with fate and chance a sprained ankle in her high heels. She claimed she liked tall guys, and most tall guys didn't want girls they had to bend down to look in the eye with. I rolled my eyes at the thought. If a guy didn't like her height, he didn't deserve her. End of discussion.

"Here, Max," Ella said, handing me a pair of black sandals with two-inch wedge heels. I stared blankly at them, and Ella sighed. "Remember? You said I could pick out your shoes for you?"

"Oh yeah," I replied, recalling the scene. "I'm an idiot." Ella scowled, shoving the shoes at me.

"Just put them on," she ordered. "We have to leave soon."

"When?" I asked, kneeling to slip the sandals on. They were surprisingly comfortable, but I guess Ella had figured that I simply wouldn't wear uncomfortable shoes.

"They invited us to come at 6:30, and it's 6:25 right now," Mom informed me. "We can walk over in a minute and be a little early."

"Which house do these Rianilds even live in?" I tightened the strap on one of the sandals and straightened, tossing my hair over my shoulder.

"It's really close by," Mom assured me. "Just a couple minutes' walk away from us."

"I'm ready," I announced, heading for the door. Mom and Ella followed behind, grabbing their purses as they did so. I left my cell phone and iPod in Ella's purse. I wasn't a bag carrier, and if this Nick kid turned out to be boring, I would need a diversion. Ella raised her eyebrows at me as I slipped the earbuda into her bag. I shrugged back, speeding up to walk with Mom.

She had been right. The Rianilds' house was only about a minute and a half away. We stood outside for a minute, admiring the property. The actual house was medium-sized, and painted pale blue with brown trim. A nicely trimmed lawn was the only landscaping, perfect for playing soccer on. There were no flowers in danger of trampling and no glass ornaments in danger of breaking. Just smooth grass to kick a ball around on. I envied this Nick. He had such a perfect area to play soccer.

If he played soccer, of course. Maybe Nick didn't like sports. Of course, if he did, we would have nothing to say to each other.

Mom walked up the path in the middle of the grass (which would, by the way, be a great midline) and stepped up onto the wooden patio. A couple wrought metal chairs and a small table stood to the left of the white door. Ella burst ahead of me to press the doorbell first, and I scowled at her. Childish it might be, but we always fought over who got to press doorbells. There was just something exciting about it!

The door swung open, revealing a small girl with long, dark brown ringlets and bright hazel eyes. She looked to be about six or seven, and was dressed in very bright clothing. Her neon pink shirt, yellow skirt, and striped leggings somehow didn't clash, and she looked completely adorable. The cute picture was completed by the tiny caramel-colored chihuahua in her arms. It watched us intently through bright black eyes, perched regally in the girl's grip.

"Hello, are you Maria?" Mom asked gently. The girl nodded, looking at her silently. "I'm Dr Martinez. Your mommy invited my daughters and I for dinner tonight. May we come in?"

The little girl nodded again, stepping back so we could enter. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the lighting, and I spent a moment looking around. The entry hall was very simple and pretty, hung with pictures of nature close-ups. A hallway led off to the left, while a long carpeted staircase rose to our right. Ella and Mom put their purses down on a small glass table, gazing around. The little girl, whose name was apparently Maria, stood quietly to the side, waiting for us to say something else. Mom looked over at her again, a gentle smile on her face. "Maria, can you take us to your parents please?"

Maria nodded, skipping off down a hallway to the left. Mom walked quickly after her, and Ella and I were about to follow when-

"Max?" a familiar voice asked. I turned around to see Fang lolling against the banister at the top of the staircase. He was wearing dressier clothes than the ones he had worn at school, black pants and a short-sleeved black button-up. I shook my head to clear it of thoughts on Fang's clothing, going back to the immediate problem. What was he doing in the Rianilds' house?

"Fang?" I returned, confused.

"What are you doing here?" Fang questioned, descending from the stairs to stand on the bottom step. I frowned back at him.

"What are YOU doing here?" I countered. He smirked.

"I live here," Fang replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. My mouth gaped open.

Nick Rianild. FANG Rianild.

So that's where I had heard that name before...

"What?" I sputtered, my mind working faster than my mouth.

"It's the hot guy!" Ella squealed. Fang and I turned to stare at her. She shrank back slightly, bashful. "Umm, I mean... Uhhh..." she stuttered. Fang smirked, and I whacked him in the arm. He promptly whacked me back. I pouted.

"Fangles hits girls!" I whined loudly, rubbing my arm and pretending to wince. Fang whacked me again.

"Don't call me Fangles," he ordered, looking peeved. Naturally, I proceeded to call him that again. And again. And again.

"Awww, Fangles doesn't like his name?" I teased, shoving him into the staircase. Fang scowled, pushing me back. Ella watched amusedly as we fought, twirling a finger through her hair. There was a contemplating look on her face as she watched us tussle good-naturedly, like she was trying to piece something together in her mind. I tried to ignore the weird expression she was sporting. Instead, I introduced her to the very gentlemanly boy (HA, yeah right) Fang. "Fangles, this is my sister Ella."

"Hi," Ella told him, smiling shyly. She seemed to have recovered from her initial embarrassing outburst. Fang nodded towards her, the barest hint of a smile visible on his face.

"Max mentioned you in homeroom," Fang commented, his voice deep and even. Ella's smile widened, and she looked towards me.

"Really? Because I mentioned her in homeroom too," Ella replied casually. "We tend to be on-"

"-the same wavelength," I finished, grinning at her. "You know, it must be a-"  
"-weird sister thing!" Ella squealed, starting to laugh. "Great minds think alike," she added, beginning the tradition.

"And then, there's ours," I replied. Fang looked amused by our exchange, and his previous hint of a smile had grown infinitesimally. I grinned at him and Ella.

"Dinner's ready," Fang offered. "I think my mom is putting it on the table right now."

"That's good, 'cause I'm starving," I told him emphatically. As if it was agreeing, my stomach rumbled. Ella giggled, and Fang simply shook his head. I shoved him again, and he shoulder bumped me back.

"This way," Fang directed, leading us down a short hallway. We ended in a spacious room holding a long wooden dining table and several matching chairs. A glass curio cabinet stood against one wall, holding stacks of delicate red and white china. The walls were painted a pastel yellow, and one had a pair of sliding glass doors set into them. All in all, the room was very elegant.

However, the most attractive thing was the food steaming on the table. Fang smirked as he noticed where my attention lay. "We can start eating when our parents get here," he informed me, pulling out a chair. Fang gestured to Ella, and she blushed slightly as she sat down in the offered chair. Pulling out another one next to her, Fang looked up and actually smiled at me. I stared at him. This was a very different side of Fang than the one that punched my arm so hard that it turned pink. "Well?" Fang prompted, looking at me questioningly. I shook myself out of my thoughts, smiling back at him.

"Thanks," I told him quietly, sitting down in the chair. Fang shook his head dismissively, sitting down in the chair next to me. We were only waiting a few seconds when Mom came in, laughing, with four others who I assumed were Fang's family. Maria skipped in first, still holding the chihuahua, and leading the adults. The man I figured was Fang's dad was almost an exact copy of him, from the long black hair, to the olive skin, to the six-foot height. The only difference was his eyes. They were a nondescript, greyish hazel, shining happily in his open face.

Fang's mother was a beautiful lady. She had dark brown hair, golden skin, and dark brown eyes with tiny silvery accents. There was very little makeup on her face, only a smidgen of a shimmery bronze eyeshadow and shiny pink lip gloss.

How did I even notice her makeup? Dear lord, Ella is rubbing off on me.

"Hello, girls!" Fang's mother beamed at us. "I'm so glad that we got to meet you first!"

Ella and I smiled at her, standing up to greet her properly like Mom always nagged us to. "It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Rianild," I told her politely. She waved her hand in the air.

"Oh please, call me Linda. It makes me feel younger," she insisted. Mr Rianild frowned jokingly at his wife.

"Oh, I see. You don't like being associated with me?" he accused, his eyes twinkling. Linda gasped in mock horror.

"You discovered my plan, James!" She sighed dramatically. "I guess it's back to the drawing board for me."

Mr Rianild smiled at Ella and I. "Hi girls. If you're going to call my wife Linda, I guess you can just call me James."

"Pleased to meet you too, sir," Ella and I chorused. We immediately glanced at each other, stifling giggles.

"Great minds think alike-"

"-and then, there's ours!"

Mom shook her head, smiling wryly. "Excuse my obnoxious girls. They tend to say the same thing quite often, and they have a little tradition every time they do," she explained.

Linda grinned brightly. "That is pretty fun, to have a sister like that! Are you twins?"

"Nah, contrary to popular belief, I'm Ella's elder by almost a year," I informed her. Linda nodded, processing this.

"I see. You girls have already met Fang and Maria, right? Did Maria introduce you to Lulu?" Linda gestured towards the little girl and her dog. I smiled at Maria, and she grinned back at me, revealing two missing front teeth. She was adorable!

"No, she didn't," I replied, crouching down to Maria's level. She held out the chihuahua proudly.

"This is Lulu," she announced happily, her voice high and clear.

"Hi Lulu," Ella cooed, kneeling next to me. "She's so cute!"

"I know," Maria replied airily, hugging the dog. Ella and I grinned. Maria was just as cute as her dog, if not cuter. Nah, she was definitely cuter, with her dark curls and wide, innocent eyes.

"Well, we can talk more over dinner. The food is getting cold!" Linda exclaimed, sitting down at one end of the table. Mom, James, and Maria sat down in the empty chairs. Maria very reluctantly set Lulu down on the floor, where she sat patiently, watching the scene with bright black eyes.

Linda started up a conversation with Mom, and Ella was very seriously debating the finer points on Barbies with Maria. This left me to talk to Fang and James.

Instead, I started heaping mashed potatoes on my plate. I'm not almost mute like Fang, and little Maria, but I've never been one for starting conversations. That's Ella's job. James and Fang were content to eat their food in silence also, which I appreciated. This meant I had more time to eat too, and I was starving. Linda was an excellent cook. I truly enjoyed her talent.

"So, Max," James drawled, cutting his steak. I looked up at him mid-bite. Laying my fork down on my plate, I waited patiently for him to continue speaking. "How are you liking out Cromwell High so far?"

"My first day was pretty nice," I replied truthfully. "I got to play soccer at lunch."

"Oh? Are you a fan of soccer?" James looked interested. I brightened. Any conversation about soccer was bound to be good.

"Max isn't a fan of soccer. She's a fanatic of soccer. There isn't a time when she'll shut up about it for longer than five minutes," Ella supplied helpfully. I shrugged. You can't deny the truth, after all.

"I am a big soccer fan myself," James admitted. "I was so excited when Fang started playing more seriously that I bought him all brand-new equipment." Fang smiled faintly, as if remembering shiny cleats and fresh shinguards. "We will have to talk more about that subject later, Max. But back to the original topic. How was your school day?"

"It went well," I replied. "The teachers are all pretty nice, and the curriculum is good."

"What was your favorite class?" James actually looked genuinely interested in the specifics of my day. This was strange. Most adults are satisfied with a 'it was okay' type of answer.

"I bet it was art class," Ella coughed discreetly. I kicked her under the table, and she flinched. Swiftly, she kicked me back. I let no expression onto my face as I whammed my heel into her shin. Ella covered her squeak of pain with another cough. Maria looked between us suspiciously, but didn't say anything.

"I had a nice time in Algebra," I made up quickly. Actually, art had been my favorite class, but I wasn't about to say that sitting in between Fang and Ella.

"Do you like math?"

"Oh, yes. It's very interesting."

There was a slight lull in our scintillating conversation.

"This is boring. Let's talk about soccer now," James suggested. I nodded vigorously. James was my kind of adult. "What positions do you play?"

"Center of the field, mostly sweeper and center halfback," I told him. He nodded, thinking this over.

"I'm a halfback and forward," Fang informed me, suddenly joining the conversation now that we were discussing soccer. I smiled at him.

"Nice. Do you play competitively?"

"I'm on a club team, if that's what you mean." Fang's face was getting more animated as we delved deeper into my favorite subject. I watched his entire face light up, a foreign expression compared to his school day poker face. He was really cute, but I didn't date anymore anyway. Not after what Sam did to me with Bridget. And why would a guy like Fang want to date me in the first place? Why was I thinking these thoughts? I cleared my head of them as soon as I registered the rebellious thoughts, instead getting back into our soccer conversation.

We finished dinner soon after, James, Ells, Fang and I still discussing soccer over our ice cream and brownies. Maria disappeared with her dessert and Lulu soon after, with only a shy smile at Ella and I to alert us of her departure. She really was quieter than Fang, Linda had struck up a conversation with Ella about academics, and James was telling Mom about the soccer club Fang played for. Fang and I sat in silence as we finished our desserts. Soon, we were sitting and staring at empty bowls.

"You eat quickly," Fang commented evenly, looking at my clean ice cream bowl.

"Right back 'atcha, Fangles," I replied sweetly.

"Touché." He shrugged, pushing his own empty bowl back. "Do you want to go outside?"

"Soccer?"

"Yep."

"You're on."

Immediately, we both stood up from the table. Excusing ourselves, we slipped through the sliding doors and out into a large backyard. It was almost exactly like the front, smooth grass everywhere, with the exception of a border garden filled with flowers. A scuffed black and red soccer ball sat in the middle of the grass. Quickly, I kicked off the heeled sandals Ella had given me, and was running barefoot towards the ball. I performed a quick Maradona before dribbling with the outside of my right foot towards Fang. He was taking off his shoes and socks, laying them down next to my sandals. I waited as he stood up and jogged towards me. "No mercy," I told him solemnly. Fang cracked a small smile.

"No mercy," he replied, before flying at me.

I had to admit. Fang was good. We wove around each other fluidly, shoving and pushing as we fought for possession of the soccer ball. One would get the ball, and the other would nimbly steal it away, only to have it revoked a few seconds later. This was how we played, swiftly and hard, until we were both gasping for breath. Fang glared at me from beneath his long bangs. "What?" I gasped out, putting my hands over my head. I had unbuttoned the rest of the buttons on my green over-shirt, and a slight breeze was blowing directly against my tank top.

"How do you play so well in a freaking skirt?" Fang complained, looking annoyed. "It's not fair."

"You see, Fangles, it's very simple. I am much better than you at soccer," I explained slowly, flashing a wide grin at him. Fang scowled at me.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"How much you wanna bet?" he challenged. I thought for a moment.

"I bet you that I could beat you in a 1v1 match, right here, right now," I announced confidently.

"Deal," Fang agreed, his black eyes sparking with anticipation. "I'll grind you into the dust."

"Eww."

There was a moment of silence as Fang processed my perverted joke. Then, as he understood, Fang roared in irritation, shoving me towards the fence. I giggled at the noise he made. Fang was easy to provoke.

"That, Maximum, is disgusting," Fang announced. I smiled.

"I know. That's why I said it, you see."

"You're sick."

"Not sick, just clever," I corrected. "It is quite an easy mistake to make."

"Let's just play, Max. And keep your mind out of the gutter," Fang ordered. I grinned cheekily at him, before darting forward and stealing the ball once more.

"First one to hit the fourth post to the left in the fence five times wins!" I yelled, pivoting to shoot. Fang slid his leg in front of the ball before I could kick, blocking me. Turning my back to him, I Croifed the ball and shot swiftly. The ball bounced neatly against the fourth post to the left. Fang flipped his hair at me in retaliation, running to retrieve the ball. Rolling my eyes, I sprinted to catch up with him. I was loving the adrenaline high I got from playing soccer with another talented player. Fang was probably just as good as Gazzy was, and that was saying something. They would both be starting forwards on the school team for sure. Fang pulled several amazing moves on me that I had never seen before, and although I got him back for each, they were still very impressive.

Finally, the score in our little match was 4-4. We had each scored four painstakingly precise points against the post, and had fought viciously for each. Neither of us were giving up anytime soon, although we were both sweaty and panting. I had the ball at my feet, but Fang was in between me and the fence post. I would have to bulldoze my way past him to score my final point. Yelling a gasped war cry, I charged him head-on. Fang hadn't expected this, and was looking slightly startled at my strange tactics. I went to Maradona around him, but he swept the ball out from under my foot. Before he could set up for a shot, I pulled the ball back away from him, turning to keep my body between him and the ball. Fang slammed into my back, trying to get me to move. I held firm, shoving my elbows back into his stomach. It didn't budge. That boy either had a metal undershirt, or some serious abs. I swear I bruised my arm against his chest. Fang grunted as he tried to poke the ball away from my feet, and I snorted right back at him, moving the ball with the outsides of my feet. There was no way I was going to let him beat me.

I felt Fang begin to pull back to shove me again, and suddenly thought of a plan. Timing would be crucial if it would work out.

Looking over my shoulder, I glanced past Fang's chest and towards the fence post goal. I moved a step to the left to keep in line with it. As I expected, Fang moved with me. Right as Fang was about to crash into me again, I Croifed the ball through his legs, and darted to the right. Fang fell on his hands, surprised by my tactics, while I dribbled excruciatingly slowly up to the fence post, and tapped the ball against it. "I win!" I crowed, resting my foot on top of the ball. Fang sat up on the lawn, shrugging.

"You win," he agreed, leaning over and bracing his hands against his knees as he caught his breath. "Nice moves."

"You too. I've never seen some of them before," I admitted, walking over to him. Fang smiled briefly.

"I hope not. I made those up," he informed me.

"Really?" I asked. He nodded. "Wow. Those were really good! You have to teach them to me."

"Sure," Fang replied. I smiled as I took another step back towards the patio off the dining room. Suddenly, my left foot gave a huge burst of pain and collapsed. I cried out as my foot buckled, sending the rest of me to the ground. Instantly, Fang was kneeling beside me. His face was expressionless, but his dark eyes flickered with concern. "Max?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

"My foot," I muttered, sitting up. "I probably twisted my ankle or something." However, when I stood up to keep walking, my left foot protested again, sending me crashing to the lawn once more. I was sure Ella's skirt would be full of grass stains after this.

Hopefully she wouldn't kill me. Hopefully Mom had a Tide Stick To Go in her purse.

"You can't walk," Fang stated bluntly. It wasn't a question. I scowled at him.

"Of course I can walk. I just whooped your butt in a 1v1!" I protested, getting on my knees to stand up again. Fang sighed.

"Are you wearing shorts under that skirt?" he asked. I raised an eyebrow, but Fang simply stared at me. I could tell he was waiting for a verbal answer.

"Uh, yeah. Do you think I would go out in public with a skirt like this and no shorts?" I asked incredulously. He smirked, shrugging innocently.

"You never know." My scowl grew, and I pushed his leg as I tried to stand up again. As I half-expected, my left foot once again refused to take my weight, and dumped me. Fang crouched down, slipping one hand under the bend of my knees and the other under my arms. I looked at him strangely, confused.

"Umm, Fang? What are you doing?" I asked, refusing to let my voice show my shock.

"Picking you up," he replied, gathering me closer to his chest as he stood up. My feet left the ground, and I was dangling in his grasp, my face so close to his chin that I couldn't even look at it clearly.

"I can see that you are picking me up," I snapped, swatting his arm. "I'm not stupid. What I want to know is why?"

Fang shrugged, adjusting his grip on me as he headed towards the porch swing on the patio. "Isn't it obvious? You're hurt."

I stiffened, trying to ignore the ropy muscle on his arms supporting my back and legs. "I'm not a damsel in distress, you know. I would've been able to walk over here," I pointed out. Fang actually laughed at my words. It was the first time I heard him laugh, and the sound made me smile despite my slight irritation.

"Well, we can't let you stay hurt, Ride. We need you to be able to try out for the soccer team so we can kick butt this year," Fang reasoned.

I smiled at his logic. "Yeah, I guess so. You, Gazzy and me would be a vicious offense. All would cower under our skill."

We had reached the patio by this time. Fang set me down gently on the padded swing seat, and I righted myself as he sat next to me. Flicking my hair behind my ear, I thanked the lord that the awful blush I had experienced earlier did not return. That was all that I needed. Fang nudged me gently, breaking my thoughts off. "Can I see your foot? I need to check if you hurt it badly," Fang told me quietly. I nodded, lifting my injured left foot up onto the swing between us. Fang took my ankle in his hands, pulling my foot closer so he could inspect it. I had to scoot closer to him to maintain my balance, until I was leaning heavily against his side, almost in his lap. All I could think was,

AWKWARD. TURTLE.

Fang gently probed around my foot with his fingers, looking over at me to see my reaction. I didn't feel a thing until he tapped against my instep. The part right between it and the arch of my foot burned like fire as Fang's finger came in contact with it. "OUCH!" I yelped, trying to pull my foot away. Fang didn't react, keeping his grip around my ankle.

"I found the problem," he announced, peering down closer to my instep. I barely resisted the urge to kick him in the face, instead contenting myself with gripping the seat cushion really hard.

"Really? What is it?" I snapped sarcastically, my mood irritated by the pain. Who knew one foot could hurt so much?

"Do you have any idea how you managed to bruise your foot this badly?" Fang asked calmly, unaffected by my anger. I thought for a moment, wondering what I had done to bruise my foot so badly. Hmmm...

"Oh, I know what happened," I said suddenly. Fang looked up from my foot watching my expression change from thoughtful back to irritated. "My sister took something from me, and I was chasing her to delayed reaction to the pain, 'cause I was fine until just now."

"What did Ella take that you were so anxious to get back?" Fang asked. I looked back down at my hands.

"Umm, the picture I drew of you in art class," I replied quietly. "It was a really nice drawing, and I didn't want her to wrinkle it."

"Oh. Okay." Fang was silent for a moment, and I was afraid he was contemplating how girly and stupid I had acted when he spoke again. "Is the drawing okay?"

"Yep," I told him, grinning. "The picture is fine."

"Good."

"Yeah."

We sat in silence for awhile, but it was comfortable this time. We swung gently back and forth on the swing, looking out over the backyard. I was actually really happy, and optimistic about our new home. I already had friends like Fang, Terra, Iggy, Nudge and Gazzy. My neighbor was really nice. There was a cute little girl with a chihuahua in the house behind me. A boy who I felt pretty much understood me was sitting next to me.

It was weird. As soon as I processed the last thought, I realized it was true. I had just met Fang today, yet he had proved several things to me already. He could be rough, pushing me back when I shoved him. But, he was also gentle when he had checked my bruised foot over. He had pulled my sister's chair and my chair out for us, like a real gentleman. Yet, he had no qualms about trying to steal parts of my brownie while I was trying to ear it. And best of all, Fang played soccer. He loved soccer, from what I could tell.

And damn, was he good at it.

"So, do you like California?" Fang asked softly, breaking the silence. I smiled as I turned to him.

"Yep, good ol' Cali seems great so far," I replied quietly. It was only then that I noticed he was still holding my injured foot. "Thanks for everything," I added, sliding my ankle from his grip. Fang nodded, letting go of my leg. We sat there for a moment, just studying each other's faces. It may have felt like we had known each other all our lives, but we hadn't. There was so much I didn't know about Fang.

But I did know that I wanted to know all about my new friend. Because that's what he is, I realized. A friend. I remembered my conversation with Ella yesterday evening.

_I'm Maximum Ride, Ells. I don't make friends easily, I had told her._

_I know, she groaned back._

Yet here I was, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Fang on his back porch, on the same day I met him, knowing he was already my friend. He was definitely a special case.

"Fang?" I asked quietly. He cocked his head silently, indicating he was listening. However, instead of saying anything, I leaned forward and put my arms around him. "Thanks," I whispered into his shoulder as I hugged him.

Fang froze, unmoving. If he had been Sam, I would have pulled back, flustered and shy again. But this wasn't my ex-boyfriend Sam, this was my new friend Fang. So instead of pulling away, I laughed.

"This is the part where you hug me back," I instructed with over-exaggerated patience. I could feel Fang's returning laugh against my cheek, enjoying the sound once more. Fang had a really nice laugh. He obeyed me, wrapping his long, wiry arms around my shoulders. We sat in our gentle embrace for awhile, not moving. I was really happy. I had a new friend. And not just any friend. I had Fang.

**Edited as of 2/10/12 and 11/21/12**

**YAY!**

**I love cute endings. This was rather fluffy in Max/Fang friendship, but I don't want them romantically involved yet. It always seemed to me that Max isn't the type of girl to immediately fall for Fang's looks, but to be his friend first and fall for his personality also! After all, she lives with him for so long in the books without his appearance occurring to her until he kisses her, right? So why would she-**

**Ya know what? I'll stop rambling now. If anyone would be interested in listening to the rest of my rant, feel free to PM me. I love to talk to my fellow MR fanatics.**

**Peace out!**

**~TMI~**


	7. THE PLAN and Confusion

**This chapter really short, but I hope you still like it. Consider this a filler.**

**MY OH SO BELOVED REVIEWERS:  
****emo squirrel**** (just saying, that's an amazing penname.), ****Lilac Rose6**** (ZOMG DO I GET CAKE? And yeah, I figured it would be too much trouble to thoroughly explain each move when it'd just confuzzle people anyway. XD), ****ChRiSyBzA**** (XD nah, TMI is Too Much Information. I do like the Mortal Instruments though.), ****AlliAlways**** (THANK YOU! I'll have to take you up on that offer... =D), ****Jace'n'Fanglover**** (Thanks! =D), ****aries4me**** (I'm so sorry. =( I'm doing the best I can to fix the format. Glad you're liking the plot though!), ****MaxRide125**** (I'm glad you like the chapters! I'll answer your question below), ****Fly On Maximum Taylor Ride**** (Thank you! I'm glad you're liking my story so far!), ****Rhaksha Ora**** (I know, right? My fingers hurt. XD), ****ADarkWingedForever**** (idk Cas, probably. Maria is adorable though, if I do say so myself. Thanks for all the reviews!), ****padfootlover109**** (you show up on my spellcheck now. XD and Maria is kinda like will show up later, but I didn't want her to be Fang's sister.), ****rebeca**** (no, Max doesn't know yet. XD she'll figure it out eventually), ****bloodyXfangs**** (I'm glad you likes it. =D I liked the huggy part too. It's as much fun to write it as it is to read it, I assure you.)**

**I tend to update whenevaz I get inspiration. When I write an uber long chappie, it might take a long time, or a couple days. It depends. However, I just sprained my ankle, so I might get more writing time for a bit! Let us begin.  
**  
I stepped out of the bathroom in a pair of soccer shorts and a camisole, toweling my wet hair dry. A cloud of steam escorted me out into the hallway as it drifted out of the bathroom. After we got back from the Rianilds', I had immediately gone to the bathroom, stripped off Ella's skirt, and prepared for a long hot shower. My instep still throbbed slightly, but it felt a lot better than before. Fang and I had gone inside shortly after our soccer match, innocently sidling by the plate of brownies and nabbing a few more. I hadn't gotten to see his room, or any of the upstairs, because Ella had insisted we play Apples to Apples in the living room instead. Apples to Apples was a card game that Ella had a very unhealthy obsession with. After our hour-long game, it was time to go home. Ells had kept shooting me weird looks the entire car ride home, which I had decided to ignore. She was acting a bit strangely, and when Ella acted strangely, you hoped for your damn life she wasn't plotting about you. Unfortunately, I was fairly sure she WAS plotting about me. It may have had something to do with her mentioning a mysterious 'Plan' yesterday. It may have been the creepy smile she kept directing at me. Or, it may have been the fact that she had practically stared me down the entire ride home from the Rianilds' house, grinning scarily.

Sisters: possibly the most terrifying beings to roam the earth.

I stumbled slightly in the hall, banging my tender instep against the wall. I choked back a curse, instead choosing to glare at the wall. It was cowering in fear, I assure you. After I had properly punished the wall for damaging my injured foot, I continued down the hall to my new room. It still reeked of paint, since I had just painted it yesterday, but I didn't mind. I sat down on the bare bed, gazing out over my creation. As I had previously decided, the wall with the door was painted with Sweet Benevolence, and the parallel wall with the windows was coated in Forever Cerulean.

The other two had been carefully painted with Washed with Gold and Love the Night, and I was loving the effect. I was very happy with my painting abilities.

The room was cold, since Mom had opened the windows to air it out. I shivered as a gust of wind danced along my wet head. Inspecting my instep again, I noted the slight bruise that was forming. Part of my foot was slightly puffy, and it was turning purplish. Fang had had to practically carry me back inside, too, although I refused to let him pick me up again. It wasn't that I didn't like him carrying me. I just hated the feeling of being helpless while someone else was in control of either keeping me aloft or dropping me. Instead of carrying me bridal-style again, I had made Fang bend over slightly so I could wrap an arm around his shoulder and use him as a crutch. I smiled as I remembered our argument about this method.

"Just let me carry you. It's easier," Fang insisted, looking slightly annoyed. I shook my head defiantly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"No. I don't like being picked up," I replied. "I'll just lean on you." I had staggered over to him, heavily favoring my left foot, and slammed into him. Fang stumbled back from the impact, frowning a little. "Sorry. Loss of motor skills," I offered, grinning at him. Fang rolled his eyes, silently leaning over so I could loop an arm over his shoulder. We went three steps this way before he started complaining.

"This makes my back hurt."

"Suck it up."

"No."

"Do you only talk to argue or complain?" I asked, only half-joking. Fang narrowed his eyes at me, but didn't say anything. I sighed loudly, tightening my grip around his shoulders as we stepped back inside. Mom shook her head as she saw us enter, me leaning heavily on Fang.

"Maximum Riesra Ride! What have you done this time?" Mom scolded, standing up to inspect my injury. I shook my head at her as Fang led me over to a chair and helped me lower myself into it.

"I'm okay, Mom. There's a bruise on my foot that decided to kill me while Fang and I were playing soccer," I explained. Mom rolled her eyes, turning back to Linda and James.

"My dear daughter is very injury-prone," she told them, sighing dramatically. "The things I have to put up with!" Linda nodded sympathetically, smiling. James, however, started laughing.

"Maria manages to get herself into the most dreadful scrapes," he confided, sounding mischievous. "It seems to run in the family. I was the same way! And, this young man here," James nodded towards Fang, who raised an eyebrow warily. "He used to hurt himself awfully! I remember when you sliced open your stomach at the park when you were fourteen, and when you broke your arm, then your other arm, in the same month!" James chuckled, but Fang didn't look amused. He was rubbing his stomach like it had suddenly started hurting, and the expression on his face was not a happy one. Linda seemed to notice this, and quickly changed the subject.

"Yes, Fang and Maria are accident-prone as well, Valencia," Linda told my mom, smiling a little too brightly. Now that I thought back on that, it was a little odd. I wondered how Fang had gotten hurt that made him so uncomfortable about the matter. Injuries were commonplace for me, nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, Ella often accused me of liking talking about getting hurt. So why did Fang feel so bad about his past injury? It didn't seem too awful, if his own dad could speak so lightly about it.

Ella herself broke me out of my thoughts, once again. She poked her head into my room, shivering at the cold air. "Hey Max! It's freezing in here!" she complained. Then she noticed the towel around my shoulders, and my wet hair. "And you're wet, too! Get out of there!" Ella ordered. I rolled my eyes as I stood up, going to close the windows. We didn't need robbers on our second day here. Ella watched me until I came out into the hallway with her, apparently not trusting me to leave without her supervision.

"So, sister dearest," I drawled, following her downstairs. "What's this about your little Plan again?"

Ella stiffened, but didn't turn around to face me. Instead, she laughed. "Dang. I thought you might have forgotten about that."

"Nope," I replied, popping the 'p'. "And you didn't answer my question."

"Luckily for you, Mom and I are smart women," Ella began, leading me towards the kitchen. I followed warily, hoping not to be met with disaster. "So we've decided to do something nice for all of us." Ella raced into the kitchen, leaving me staring blankly after her. I debated on whether it would be smarter to follow or flee when she came back out and pulled me through the doorway. The kitchen looked like a unicorn had barfed on it. Pink and green lay everywhere, and I stopped in my tracks, staring at the transformed room. The table and chairs were pushed against the walls, and a pale pink blanket trimmed in pastel green lay in the middle of the floor. The lights were turned down low, and pink and green candles glowed on the counters. Various objects were spread out on the blanket, and with a twinge of alarm I noticed Ella's makeup bag among them. "Ella..." I said warningly, taking a step backwards. Mom popped up in the doorway behind Ella, smiling cheerily and carrying her electronic footbath thing. I stared at her. She was wearing a green bathrobe over her pajamas and her hair was clipped up in a bun.

"Hello, Max!" Mom beamed at me as she ushered us further into the kitchen. She set the footbath down on the counter and picked something else up off of it. Mom tossed the object at me, and I caught it instinctively. What's with people throwing things at me all the time? Mom raised an eyebrow at me. "Are you gonna put that on?" she asked, filling the footbath up in the sink. I shook out the bundle she had tossed at me. It was a plush blue bathrobe, covered in intricate silver threaded designs. Cautiously, I slipped the bathrobe over my pajamas, pulling my wet hair off my neck as I did so.

"What's with all this stuff?" I asked, jerking my head at the stuff invading our kitchen. I tied the belt to my own robe as I waited for an answer.

"Ella and I decided it would be nice to have a girls' night, to unwind from the stress of moving," Mom replied cheerily, her brown eyes warm and happy. I opened my mouth to say that this wasn't exactly my idea of unwinding, but Mom pulled her trump card. She swiftly pulled open the refrigerator door, extracting several items and waving them in the air. "And look what I've got!" My mouth watered as I gazed at her hands. Mom had bought sparkling apple cider and Ben & Jerry's!

I was immediately her slave. Mom knew all too well what I would do for those two delicacies. She knew I would put up with a spa night to be able to gorge on cider and Ben & Jerry's.

Damn it. I was hooked.

"Max? Were you going to say something?" Ella as head towards the blanket and candles. Ella smiled as she donned another bathrobe. Hers was pink with electric blue designs scrolled on the edked sweetly, stifling a giggle. I turned towards her, scowling. However, I swiftly turned my scowl into a smile as sweet as her own.

"Why yes, Ella! I was going to suggest we get started immediately!" I chirped, plopping down on the blanket. Mom smiled triumphantly, handing me a container of Cherry Garcia and a spoon.

"Dig in," she told me, smiling as she grabbed a tub of Fudge Brownie. I tore the lid off my ice cream, not needing to be told twice. Cherry Garcia was the best ice cream ever! Ella smirked, pouring a glass of cider for herself and sitting down beside me.

"So, Max," Ella started, smiling her creepy smile I recognized from the car ride earlier. I was immediately alert. "Where did you know Fang from before? So that's what she wanted, the scoop on Fang Rianild. I didn't really blame her. Fang was an interesting guy. "I told you, I met him at school today," I replied, focusing on getting the perfect spoonful of my Cherry Garcia.

"Why did you draw him?" she persisted, fiddling with her cider.

"He's very picturesque," I deadpanned, fighting back a smile. Ella pouted.

"Come on, Max! Be serious for once. I just want to know why you like this guy so mu-"

"Whoa whoa whoa," I interrupted, staring at Ella incredulously. "I don't like Fang like that. He's just a friend."

Ella smirked. "Yes, he's very friendly, isn't he?"

"Ells!" I glared at my sister.

"Admit that you loved hugging him," Ella continued, a mischievous spark dancing in her eyes. I immediately glared at her.

"How did you know I hugged him?" I challenged. "We were on the back porch, you little spy!"

Ella smiled sweetly, completely aware that I had caught her. "So? You guys were so cute! He was so concerned about your foot!"

My scowl deepened, and I internally roared at the blush trying to rise out of my soul again. There was no way I would let it return again. "That's because he wants me to try out for the soccer team next week, and he knows I'm a lefty!"

"How does he know you're a lefty?"

"'Cause he was watching us play at lunch!"

"You mean he was watching YOU play at lunch!" Ella crowed triumphantly. I shook my head emphatically in response.

"No! He was watching all of us, not just me," I replied swiftly. There was no way Fang had just been watching me. He had said Gazzy was his friend, and he had known who the other Max was. I hadn't been singled out.

But then there was the picture he drew of me, just me, not anybody else... Suddenly, inexplicably, I felt tears spring to my eyes. I was so surprised by their appearance that I let them fall down my cheeks. Ella looked alarmed, immediately dropping her teasing air and launching herself at me in a hug. I sat, unresponsive, as she hugged me tightly. Tears leaked steadily from my eyes, and I was still too shocked to do anything about them. I had never cried about a boy before. Even when Sam had ditched me for Brigid, I didn't cry, and I had thought that I really liked Sam. So why was I crying now, just because Ella was saying that a boy I had just met today liked me? I honestly didn't know. I just sat there and let the tears fall. Mom looked a little concerned as she watched my waterworks show, but she simply let me cry, somehow knowing with her special Mom powers that I couldn't be comforted. I didn't even know what I needed comforting _with_. Heck, I didn't even know why I was crying in the first place!

Eventually, the tears slowed to a stop, and Ella untangled her arms from around me. She looked at me earnestly through wide brown eyes. "I'm sorry Max, I didn't mean to make you upset," she said, looking truly remorseful. I sniffed, waving her apology off.

"Don't worry Ells. I don't know why I got all drippy all of a sudden. I must be PMSing or something," I replied. Ella smiled, and Mom looked less worried.

"Well, why don't we get started with our little spa night?" Mom suggested. "You girls are finished with your homework, right?" We both nodded. I had finished mine before dinner, and I knew that Ella always holed up in the library at lunch after she finished eating and did her homework then. She always made sure her last two periods of the day after lunch were things like PE and music. "Okay then," Mom continued, plugging the footbath into an electric socket. "Max, why don't you go first? I'll get started brushing Ella's hair." Mom pulled out a blue hairbrush and attacked Ella's snarls. Ella giggled as she stole a spoonful of Mom's ice cream. I smiled. Maybe this spa night could be fun after all...

But I still couldn't get Ella's words off my mind. She was so convinced Fang liked me, when I had only felt friendliness from him. How would I feel if Fang did like me?

Judging from my tears, I wouldn't like it very much.

**TSK TSK, MAX. YOU WOULD LIKE IT A LOT. TRUST ME. XD  
I'll get another chapter up asap, since this one was so short! Review please! =D**

**~TMI~**


	8. THREE DAY UPDATE BOOYAH XD

**Hey, guesss what? I had a slight case of insomnia, and stayed up until 1:45 AM writing this last night! YAY! XD**

**DEDICATED TO MY OH SO BELOVED REVIEWERS:**  
**Dark Queen of Insanity**** (XD I never thought of that. It's true though. JP got on my nerves in that last book...), ****Paper Aeroplanes**** (I have to say I like your new penname better. XD and idk, I just made Maxi dearest cry... Lol, I'll think of a plausible explanation.), ****Anna**** (REALLY? EPICNOSITY. And sure, I can do that. Thanks for the review!), ****FunTimeWithAggie**** (thank you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me. =D), ****Fly On Maximum Taylor Ride**** (Thank you! I love you! XD), ****Lilac Rose6**** (Thanks for the review! No Iggy this time? Whoa. Gazzy says hi. XD), ****Emo Squirrel**** (Thanks for the review! And I hope you understand better now.), ****ninjastar954**** (Thank you so much! I hope you feel happy now! =D), ****FictionFinatic**** (it DOES have something to do with Sam! But what? -dramatic pause- I honestly don't know yet. XD I'm glad you're enjoying the story!), ****The Seagull**** (I'm glad you at least liked it a bit. XD And for the record, the kitchen itself isn't pink. The blanket was. XD), ****PurpleTea88**** (First of all, love the penname. =D And thank you so much for reviewing! Yours was the helpful, funny kind that I love the best! Thank you!), ****Night Wolf**** (I'm glad you're liking it!), ****Dark Skitty Power**** (YOU ALMOST MISSED RECOGNITION! XD Well, now that you finally know about it {although you should have gotten update alerts XD} I hope you'll like it. lol)**

**Spacing fixed as of 11/21/12**

**Anyway, enjoy the story!  
**  
"Come on, Ells! We're gonna be late," I snapped at my sister. She jogged down the stairs and out the door, and I followed, slamming the door behind us. I could picture Mom frowning behind me in my mind, but I was just not in a good mood today. My observant family had picked up on that, probably from my atrocious behavior at the breakfast table. Consequently, I was makeup-free, and wearing my own clothing. Ella didn't even dare to try and get me to do otherwise. I was much more comfortable in my jeans, plain white shirt, and black sweatshirt than I ever could be in CareBear skinny jeans or a skirt. I let out a small growl at the thought of those articles of clothing. Ella glanced at me, alarmed, but I made no attempt to explain my thoughts. Instead I kicked a rock across the sidewalk, watching it bump and roll along the pavement cracks.  
I had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, that was for sure.

Ella stayed silent the entire trek to school, choosing to keep her eyes on the sidewalk as I wallowed in my morning-grumpiness. We parted ways without a word at the school gates. I watched as Ella melted into the crowd of students, not looking back at me before she disappeared. I felt a slight pang of sadness at not being acknowledged by my own sister, but it was quickly swallowed up by my prior unfriendliness. I stalked angrily through the hallways, shoving aside anyone who tried to push past me in the highschool traffic jam. Once I reached my locker, I savagely spun the dial, tearing the door open as soon as it unlocked. I glanced around for either Lissa or Fang as I shoved my backpack in my locker. Neither person was anywhere to be seen. I was slightly disappointed not to see Fang, but I swiftly brushed the thought away. Ella's previous conviction that he liked me weighed heavy on my mood, lowering it even further into the depths of grumpiness.

It was good for Lissa she wasn't in sight. I was itching to let off some steam, and my fingers were tensed and at the ready to sock somebody.  
I gathered the supplies I needed for my next few classes before slamming my locker door shut. It ricocheted against the wall before bouncing into place and locking again. I was momentarily satisfied by the action, and inspected the mark my locker door made on the wall. A small blue scratch was clearly visible against the white paint.

Whirling on my heel, I pushed through the crowds and stomped over to homeroom. I yanked the door open, startling Miss James. She looked up at me, surprised, then smiled. "Hello, Max. If you ever happen to be early, like today, you can just come in and sit down quietly until class begins."

I nodded curtly, not meeting her eyes. I could practically sense her surprise grow as I walked stiffly to my new seat in the back of the class and fell down into it. Setting my books down none too gently, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for school to begin.  
I had been the first to arrive to homeroom, but soon other people started filtering in. The shy Asian girl who sat two rows in front of me appeared quickly, walking to her seat with her head down. She immediately pulled out a book and began to read. After a few, long and slow minutes, the whole class had arrived, except for my desk mate. Fang was nowhere to be seen a minute before the bell.

Despite my bad mood, I was curious as to where he could be. Lissa kept glancing back at our desk, and I could tell that she too was wondering about Fang. I glared at her, my bad mood instantly renewed. She narrowed her eyes back at me, turning back around with a flip of her red hair. I would get that girl one day. She bugged the heck out of me. I would corner her in a dark alleyway with s rusty pair of scissors, and cut off all of her hair. Then I'd make her braid it all and eat it. Then I would kick her off a dizzyingly high cliff, and watch her fall to the bottom. Then I'd scrape up her remains and throw her off an even higher cliff. Abruptly. the bell rang, startling me out of my plans to kill Lissa.  
Fang was still nowhere to be found.

The announcements began, and yet Fang was still absent. I watched the door, anticipating the moment he would walk in. How would I survive the rest of homeroom without a friend to help me stay sane? Lissa was sitting right in front of me! One of us would be dead by the end of the period. Either I would kill her, or commit suicide in an attempt to get away from her prattle. I preferred the idea of killing her...

The announcements ended, and still there was no Fang. Chatter erupted in the classroom as everyone began to talk with their friends. I sat in stony silence, not wanting to say a word to anyone. Had Fang gotten deathly ill overnight from eating too many brownies with me? Or had he gotten beaten up on the way to school? Maybe he was lying, half-dead, in the streets! What if he was kidnapped? I've always been a paranoid, pessimistic sort of girl, and all I could think was that Fang was in trouble. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He was probably fine, and I was freaking out over nothing. Why did I care so much, anyway? I had just met him yesterday. He was practically a stranger, even if I felt like I somehow already knew him...

Lissa turned around, looking at me condescendingly. "Hey Max," she sneered. "Do you know where my boyfriend is?"

I gritted my teeth, trying to fight back the urge to kill her. "I thought you two broke up," I replied, somehow keeping my voice calm and even. Lissa flipped her hair, unperturbed.

"Oh, that? Well, he's obviously just playing hard to get. I'll have him back in bed by the end of the week." Lissa tittered in an unnaturally high octave, laughing at her lame joke. I stood up, shocked. This girl was plain disgusting! I was completely positive Fang would do absolutely nothing of what Lissa was implying. It just didn't seem like something he would do. If Lissa thought that was a funny joke, she was rising even higher on my I-Hate-You list. My bad mood had flared again, and I raised a clenched fist in her direction. Lissa's smile dropped, and her eyes locked on to my fist. "M-Max?" she stuttered, her voice even higher than before. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Don't you dare say anything like that about Fang, ever again," I hissed at her. "Or I will personally hunt you down and beat you to a bloody pulp."

Lissa shrank back in her chair, her face pale. "Geez, Max! Take a chill pill," she squeaked, trying to smile. "I'm kidding, it's all cool."  
I sat back down, but I was far from satisfied. If I turned my back for a second, she'd probably be spouting nonsense again.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Fang walked in, completely fine. My morbid worries from earlier evaporated, only to be replaced by my horrible mood once more. Fang handed a pink late slip to Miss James, who nodded and smiled at him. Fang flashed her a quick smile back before lapsing into a blank facial expression once more. I leaned back in my chair and scowled as he came up the row and sat beside me. Setting his books down on the desk, Fang raised an eyebrow at me. I raised an eyebrow back, refusing to let my mood lift. I had been worried for nothing, and my instep was starting to throb again. "Hey," Fang murmured, sitting down. I nodded stiffly, looking away from him. An awkward silence fell between us. Again, all I could think about was how Ella had been convinced Fang liked me. I simply didn't feel comfortable with him right now, not while I was thinking those thoughts. Fang seemed wrapped up in his own thoughts, too, and didn't say anything for the rest of the period. Thankfully, Lissa didn't attempt to speak to either of us, so homeroom passed in an uneventful fashion.

When the bell rang, I grabbed my stuff and stalked out the door ahead of Fang. My bad mood had not yet waned, not by a long shot. I didn't want to talk to anyone, not even him. Fang trailed behind me all the way to science, obviously confused by my behavior. I slipped into my seat in the front, and didn't look up as Fang passed me on his way to his own desk. Mr Lundom smiled at us cheerfully. "Hello Nick! Hello Max!" Fang nodded in reply, and I couldn't help but notice the tiniest of frowns form on his face at the mention of his real name. I didn't make an effort to answer Mr Lundom at all. He looked slightly confused by our silence. "Quiet today, are we?" he asked, bustling about at his desk. Fang and I stayed silent. Luckily for Mr Lundom, the rest of the class drifted in then, laughing and talking. He looked relieved to be among normal students, and greeted everyone by name. JJ fell into the seat beside me, smiling cheerfully. She paused when she saw my stormy expression, but continued to set up her stuff. "Bad morning?" JJ asked in a conversational tone. I grunted in reply, causing her to laugh. At least _somebody _was in a good mood. JJ was just too upbeat to let other people get on her mood. The tiniest bit of my bad mood evaporated, but not much.  
JJ left me alone for the rest of the period, thankfully understanding that I was just grumpy, and not mad at her. I liked JJ.

My next class was PE, and I was looking forward to it. Yesterday the PE teacher, Mr Tulney, had announced that the last unit had ended, and there would be a grace period of fun activities in class before the next unit began. I had overheard some of the boys gushing about dodgeball. Dodgeball would be the perfect outlet for my bad mood...

I changed into my new PE uniform as quickly as I could, ignoring the chatter of the other girls in the locker room. As soon as I was dressed, I ran outside and waited impatiently for everyone else to come out. I hadn't noticed them yesterday, but Nudge, Terra. Max II, and Gazzy were in this class with me. I saw them come out of the locker rooms, but made no move to join them. I needed to burn off my bad mood before attempting to make social contact with people I wanted to be friends with. Otherwise, they'd probably never speak to me again. I was already fairly sure Fang wasn't as comfortable with me now as he had been yesterday.

With a pang of relief, I noticed that Mr Tulney had arrived. I jogged over to him expectantly, waiting for him to speak so I could run off my moodiness. He waited until the whole class was assembled before giving us our instructions. "I want four laps around the track, in under eight minutes. If you don't make it in time, you're running laps for the rest of the period while everyone else plays dodgeball in the gym." Mr Tulney had to wait as a cheer erupted from some students, mixed with several loud groans. "Head to the track now. I start my timer in one minute. Go!"

With some considerable grumbling, our class was soon assembled at the starting line of the big blue track encircling the synthetic turf athletic field. I bounced on the balls of my feet, impatient to begin running. It seemed like forever until I heard Mr Tulney yell, "GO!" Then I was off like a bullet shot from a rifle. I had left most of the class behind me in my swift start, but I noticed with approval that Gazzy and Nudge were running right along with me. I could feel my bad mood melting quickly as I pushed into high gear. I didn't care about conserving energy for my final lap. I just needed to run, to get this grouchy black cloud out of my system.

I wasn't sure when I began to leave Nudge and Gazzy behind me. They were steadily keeping pace with me for at least two and a half laps. However, at that point, I began to feel exhilarated, and ran even faster than I had before. The other two stayed at their same pace, still running way ahead of everyone else, but now far behind me. By this time I had lapped almost half the class. I zipped around the circuit four times with no problem, feeling fresh and happy. My bad mood was completely gone.

I didn't want to stop running yet, though, so I simply didn't. I lapped more and more people, increasing speed until I was racing the wind, loving the feel of my ponytail flying in a heavy line behind me. Ragged breaths tore at my abdomen, but I didn't want to stop. I kept on running around and around the track until I heard Mr Tulney yell, "TIME!"

Abruptly, I slowed from sprinting to running, running to jogging, and jogging to walking. Now that I wasn't focused on running, I realized I was panting heavily, and sweat was trailing down my face in cold rivers. But I was satisfied, and I couldn't stop a huge grin from breaking across my face. I met up with Gazzy, Nudge, Terra, and Max II at the water fountains, still smiling. Gazzy high-fived me silently, and Max II copied him. Nudge however, squealed as loudly as she could, hopping up and down excitedly. Terra smiled indulgently as she watched her friend spaz out.  
"ZOMG MAX you're such an amazing runner! Aren't you tired? How can you run that fast and still speed up and just keep going and going? At first Gazzy and I were right with you, but we were going almost top speed, and then you kept going faster! You lapped Veronica and Ashley six times! Max and Gazzy were counting! It was so cool 'cause you kept sprinting and sprinting and Terra's all, 'she can't go any faster than that,' and then right after she said that you sped up even more! And Terry's like, 'WTF THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!' and Gazzy was laughing his butt off! It was so cool! How many laps did you do in that eight minutes?" Nudge babbled endlessly without once taking a breath. I stared at her, wondering how she was still alive without taking in any air. Gazzy finally had to shut her up with a hand across the mouth. Nudge pushed it away with a playful scowl in his direction, but stopped ranting.

"I don't know how many laps I ran. I just needed to burn off some energy," I replied honestly.

"You ran eight," a gruff voice behind me answered, sounding half-amused, half-shocked. I whirled around to see Mr Tulney standing behind me. "That was pretty amazing, Ride. Some of the kids didn't make four laps in eight minutes, and there you were breezing by with eight. It was rather entertaining, I have to say," Mr Tulney added impishly. I grinned, pleased at this unexpected praise.

"I like to run," I admitted. "And today I needed to burn off some steam."

"Do you intend to run track?" Mr Tulney asked, looking hopeful. "We could use a pair of legs as fast as yours."

"Sorry, Mr Tulney, I'm playing soccer," I replied apologetically. "Track doesn't really interest me. I'd like to do cross country, though."

"That's a shame," Mr Tulney murmured. "But it's your decision. Good luck in your soccer endeavor, then."

"Thank you." I watched him go off towards the gym, smiling wryly. "I kinda feel bad now," I remarked to no one in particular. "He seemed so hopeful."

"Don't feel bad, Max I," Max II told me, slinging an arm around my shoulders in a friendly way. "We need you on the soccer team!"

"Right!" Gazzy put his arm around me from the other side, nodding vigorously. "We're gonna win championships this year! And we need you to help ensure victory!"

"I feel loved," Terra interjected, crossing her arms as she followed us to the gym. Gazzy immediately turned to her, smiling.

"You are, Terry dear!" he insisted. "What would we do without you cheering for us all?" Terra giggled, ducking behind Nudge. I started to smile at her antics, when a sudden bolt of white-hot pain shot through my left foot. My knee buckled in response, and I dropped to the floor, grasping my foot and pulling it towards me. Max II crouched next to me, looking worried.

"Max? Are you okay?" Max II asked, not bothering to add the playful 'I' on to my name. I nodded tightly, slowly letting go of my now throbbing foot. I had completely forgotten to go easy on my bruised foot while I was running. Now I was paying the price. Max II offered me a hand, and I leaned heavily on him as I stood up.

"I bruised my foot yesterday, and it decided to remind me about its existence," I explained. My new friends nodded understandingly.

"Better you than me," Max II joked. I narrowed my eyes at him, and playfully messed up his hair. He squeezed my shoulders in reply, laughing.

"Well if you're better, hurry up!" Terra whined, tugging at my other arm. "I wanna go play dodgeball and kick everybody's butts!"

Ah. A girl after my own heart.

I let Terra and Nudge pull me into the gym, while Gaz and Max II trailed behind discussing top secret techniques. As I listened to Terra and Nudge chatter away, I decided that I felt _a lot _better from this morning's bad mood already. I felt completely normal once more.

I'd have to apologize to Fang for my moodiness later. I hoped he didn't think I was mad at him. I didn't want Fang to feel bad. Not Fang. Definitely not Fang.

Fang's POV  
"Mom, you made me miss the whole game," I complained. It was past 7:30 yet I was sitting at the kitchen table, unable to stand up and go to school. Why? Because Mom had sicced Maria on me. She was sitting on the floor next to my chair, hugging my legs in a vice-like grip. Maria was a strong little bugger for being six years old.

Anyone with a sane family may have been wondering what the heck was going on in my kitchen. We had sat and eaten breakfast together today, an unusual event for my family. Usually Dad had to run to the office at 6:45, and I was out of the house by 7:30 to play a quick soccer game with the guys before school.

But for one reason or another, Dad had been able to stay until 7:30 today. Mom had celebrated with chocolate chip pancakes, so I had been compelled to stay and gorge on them past the usual time I left for school. I figured I'd miss part of our pick-up game, but I'd probably still make half of it at the very least. I ate my pancakes quickly, cleaning my plate by 7:45. I had started to get up and take my plate to the sink when Mom motioned to Maria. My traitor sister leaped out of her chair and attacked my legs in a hug, effectively anchoring me in place. I had sat back down, surprised, and Mom came over, smiling sweetly at me. "Here, Fang, I'll take this out for you," Mom offered, grabbing my plate and carrying it to the sink. I watched her wash it off, completely confused. Why had my mom set my little sister on me? Said sister was currently giggling her head off as she clutched my legs.

I leaned over and ruffled the top of her head, breaking out a small smile for her. Maria looked up at me, still giggling. "Hey Ria, can you let go of me? I have to go to school now," I explained. Maria nodded, but didn't lessen her grip on my legs. I cocked my head to the side, making a sad face at her. "Ria, that's not nice."

Maria just giggled in response. I had to smile. Difficulty with verbal messages seemed to run in the family.

"Fang, Maria isn't going to let go," Mom informed me cheerily from the sink. I frowned.

"Why not?"

"Because I told her not to," Mom replied casually, setting my plate down and turning to face me.

"Why?" I was confused now.

"I want the scoop on Valencia's daughters, and you aren't leaving until I get it," Mom threatened. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"You met them last night," I pointed out.

"But Ella was with Maria most of the night, and I didn't even get to talk to Max. You kept her to yourself!" Mom accused, a wicked grin forming on her face. I blanched.

"Mom! I was NOT keeping Max to myself," I protested, forgetting to control my facial expression. Mom cackled evilly in reply, which was just plain creepy.

"Of course you weren't, darling. My mistake," Mom simpered, still grinning widely. Maria giggled again, tightening her grip around my legs. "And I still want the scoop. It's 7:50. We can wait all day if you want to." I sighed, again trying to stand up. Maria held fast to my legs, though, and I fell back in my chair. "Let's start with Ella," Mom continued, ignoring my escape attempt. "Tell me what you think about her."

"Ella's nice, although she's a bit creepy," I admitted, deciding to just get this over with. The faster I answered Mom's questions, the faster I would be free.

"How so?" Mom pried. I rolled my eyes.

"I saw her before we met the rest of the family, a couple days ago. She just stared at me, like she was analyzing my soul or something," I explained, thinking back to my first Ella sighting. Now that I thought about it, I remembered hearing Max and Dr Martinez talking inside the house. That's where I had first heard Max's name. It had stayed in the back of my mind until the next morning, when she appeared in homeroom.

"Is Ella just too girly for your taste?" Mom asked, leaning back against the counters. I shrugged in response. "So you think Ella is slightly scary and too girly. What about Max?"

A slight smile stole across my lips before I quickly dropped it, returning to my normal, unbreakable expression. "Max is nice too."

Mom smiled widely, looking way too happy. "How so?"

"Those are exactly the words you used to pry about Ella," I informed her. Mom waved her hands around impatiently.

"You're stalling. Just answer the question, young man," Mom ordered. I hid a smirk at her tone of voice, but nonetheless obeyed.

"Max is... Max. You get the feeling she doesn't particularly care if you hate her, and she's happy to hate you right back. But she was also really friendly to Nudge and Iggy and Terra and JJ, and Gazzy said she was pretty cool. She doesn't try to flaunt her looks at everybody, although she definitely could if she wanted to. And she's a really good artist, not to mention she kicks serious butt in soccer. I owe her one, too, because she saved me from Lissa. Miss James put Max in Lissa's seat next to me in homeroom, because of her last name. Now I don't have to sit next to Lissa anymore, which is a relief. Lissa seems set on hating Max, and Max is happy to reciprocate the feeling. I guess that Max is... just, Max. I can't think of another word to describe her." I lapsed into silence, more surprised at my rant about Max than my mom appeared to be. In fact, this seemed to be the answer she was anticipating, because she just smiled and nodded thoughtfully.

"So do you like her?" Mom asked, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. My eyes widened in alarm. That was definitely not the question I expected.

"What?" I sputtered. "Why?"

"Nevermind why, Fang. Do you?"

"Mom, I just broke up with my girlfriend-"

"Whom you hated for ages anyway-" Mom interjected. I waved her off.

"And I just met Max yesterday. Isn't that a bit soon to start liking someone?" I asked plaintively. Mom shook her head vigorously.

"Oh no, not at all," she assured me. I sighed, and Maria giggled yet again. I had almost forgotten she was still clinging to my legs. "Don't you think she's pretty?"

Only through extreme expression control was I able to keep my cheeks from reddening. "Mom, that's not fair. There are plenty of pretty girls I don't like."

"So? Answer my questions, don't argue. Do you think Max is pretty?" Mom demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, I guess," I muttered, praying that I wouldn't blush. So far, I was holding strong.

"What does 'I guess' mean?"

"Mom!"

"I want to know!" Mom insisted, not looking embarrassed in the least.

"Yes, I think Max is very pretty. Okay?" I muttered, puttng my head down on the table. This was mortifying. At least Dad had left, so he couldn't tease me about it later.

"How pretty?" Mom persisted. I closed my eyes, mentally dead. "Nicholas Rianild, answer your mother!"

"Her eyes are really pretty, her hair was all glossy and sunstreaked and altogether really pretty, and her left foot is also really pretty, too. I think she's really pretty. Is that good enough?" I asked.

"Left foot?" Mom asked, momentarily distracted.

"That was the one she hurt. I had to look at it, and it was a very pretty foot," I explained, now completely past my embarrassment. This was ridiculous, and I simply didn't care anymore. Mom nodded, but I could tell she was confused by the 'pretty foot' comment. "So do you have your 'scoop'?" I asked, putting air quotes around 'scoop'. Mom smiled, nodding.

"You are released," she proclaimed, waving Maria away from me. My sister sprang off my legs, and ran, still giggling, from the room. I stood up, and looked at the clock. I felt my stomach drop.

"Mom! It's 8:13! School started three minutes ago!" I yelled, racing for my backpack. Mom glanced at the clock, and the smile dropped from her face.

"I'm so sorry, Fang. I'll write you a note really quickly," Mom said hurriedly, scribbling something on a piece of paper and signing it. I grabbed the note, running for the door with my bag slung over one shoulder. "Have a good day!" Mom called from the doorway as I sprinted to school. I shook my head, increasing speed along the flat stretch between me and Cromwell High. I was there in less than two minutes, and I raced into the office, panting and shoving my hair out of my eyes. Ms Jean, the secretary, smiled at me, taking the note and reading it quickly.

"Oh, your mom made you late again, Fang?" Ms Jean asked, smiling at me. I nodded, fighting to regulate my breathing after my run. Ms Jean shook her head. "That lady is a right chatterbox. I'll talk to her about making her son late for school," Ms Jean promised. I flashed her a quick smile as I took the late pass she handed me. Ms Jean was a good friend of my mom, and knew how talkative she could be. Mom was almost as bad as Nudge when it came to ranting. "Hurry to your class, now. There's still six minutes left of homeroom," Ms Jean called as I jogged out of the office. I managed to get to my locker, unload my stuff, and run to Miss James' room in less than two minutes, which was a personal new record. I smiled swiftly before tugging the door open and entering my homeroom.

"Hello, Fang," Miss James greeted me. "I thought you were sick or something."

I shook my head, flashing her a smile as I handed her the note. She took it without a word and waved me towards my desk. As I moved down the aisle, I looked towards the desk I now shared with Max. Lissa was sitting in front of her, looking pale and slightly shaken. Max didn't look happy in the least. She slouched in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest, and glared at her binder. I set my stuff down softly on the desk, slipping into the seat beside her. Max glanced at me, but didn't say anything. Unfortunately, I had to be the one to initiate conversation, a task I never liked. I looked at Max until she returned my gaze, then greeted her with a quiet, "Hey."

She didn't reply, instead choosing to nod curtly in my direction as her gaze shifted back to her binder. Now I was confused. Was she mad at me? What could I have done? I racked my brain, trying to think of a reason, but couldn't think of anything. We sat in an uncomfortable silence until the bell rang. Max swiftly stood up and stalked towards the door without a backward glance. I followed her halfheartedly, still wondering why she was angry. After this morning's conversation with my mom, I was very aware of my own thoughts concerning Max. Even as she was moving stiffly and angrily through the hallways, I couldn't help but notice the light flashing on her sunstreaked hair. It was really pretty, even though it was wavy today, instead of the glossy sheet it had been yesterday.

I spent most of science class wondering why Max was so mad. She didn't seem to be acting very friendly to JJ either, though. Maybe she wasn't just mad at me? When I looked over, though, JJ seemed completely unaffected by Max's curt silence. Was I taking this too seriously? This was probably trivial, but I still didn't like the feeling that Max was mad at me.

Max rushed out of science class at the end of the period, brushing by Mr Lundom in her hurry to leave. I stood up to follow her, but my lab partner, Terence, stopped me. "Hey Fang, do you have a problem with the worm dissection? 'Cause if you do, I need to find a new partner before-"

"I'm fine with dissection, Terence," I interrupted him, my eyes on the door.

"Okay then. That's great! I'll see you tomor-"

"Bye." I picked up my things and hurried after Max. I had hoped I could catch her in the hallway, but she was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, I continued on to English. I'd have to talk to her at lunch.

I flashed a quick smile at Ms Niota as I walked into her class, immediately beelining for my usual window seat. Ms Niota allowed free seating every day, and I usually managed to snag a desk by the windows. It wasn't that Ms Niota was a boring teacher; I just liked having a window nearby, since I was slightly claustrophobic. When I was seven, I had accidentally locked myself in the dog cage of my uncle's terrier. I had huddled in the too-small space for what seemed like years before my dad heard my whimpers and came to free me. I shuddered at the memory. Even a decade later, I still couldn't bear to look at dog crates, and my claustrophobia lingered on.

Iggy plopped into the seat next to me, startling me out of my memories. "Hi Fang," he greeted me, leaning back in his chair. I looked at him strangely, but he, of course, didn't notice.

"How did you know I was sitting here?" I asked him. Iggy shrugged, grinning.

"I could sense your emo presence from across the room," Iggy said in a creepy voice. I elbowed him in the ribs, and he yelped. "Jeez, Fang. You're so violent!"

I grunted. "How'd you know I was here?" I persisted, curious. Iggy snickered.

"There's something called 'asking a pretty girl', Fangy." Iggy rocked back in his chair, smirking in my direction. "Even though I can usually deal with stuff normally, the girls love the blind guy thing. They think it's cute."

"I'm rolling my eyes, Iggy," I replied, shuffling my papers back and forth. "You have no shame."

"But you have plenty! So I'll just borrow some of yours if I ever need it," Iggy retorted cheekily. I elbowed him again. "You really are very violent, Fang. Maybe you should see a psychiatrist about your problem."

"My only problem is you."

"Ooh! That hurts, Fang. You cut me deep." Iggy held his hand over his heart, wincing dramatically.

"I'm rolling my eyes again." I turned to look out the window. Ms Niota's classroom had a good view over the athletic field. I watched the goal nets swing in the breeze, instantly wanting to be out shooting a soccer ball into them. I saw the kids in PE amble slowly out to the start of the track ringing the field. Apparently we were running laps today. I picked Gazzy, Nudge and Terra out of the crowd, chattering away and smiling at one another. All at once, everyone started running. Three people led the class; Gazzy, Nudge, and another girl with long blondish-brown hair and a slim, athletic body. She looked vaguely familiar. I turned back to the classroom in time to hear Ms Niota start talking about the persuasive essay we were going to start writing. Iggy groaned beside me.

"I hate writing essays," he muttered. "My mom makes me say everything I want to write out loud for her to record on paper. It's so annoying."

"Right," I replied absentmindedly. I glanced back out the window. The girl I had been wondering about had pulled ahead of Nudge and Gazzy, and was beginning to pass up the stragglers in the class. I frowned, wondering who that girl could possibly be. I watched as she sprinted around the track again. When she came close to the window, I flashed a look towards Ms Niota. She was answering someone's question, not paying attention towards my side of the room. I quickly leaned over and stared intently out the window towards the girl's face.

It was Max. Of course it was Max. Who else could manage to outrun Nudge AND Gazzy? Those two were among the very fastest in our entire grade, yet she outstripped them without a problem. Who else but Maximum Ride? I smiled wryly. This girl was going to be very interesting.  
**  
Is this chapter better? I made it loooooooong to make up for the filler chapter.**

**Gazzy: We're back to double-digit page numbers.**

**XD And I added in Fang's POV, since several people requested it. I think the bulk of this will be MPOV, but I can add in FPOV, EPOV, IPOV, or maybe even DMPOV.  
Gazzy: DMPOV?  
Dr M's POV.  
Gazzy: Oh.  
Nudge: What about MY POV?  
I dunno, Nudgekins. Ask the readers.**

**REVIEW PLEASE! =D**

**~TMI~**


	9. Fang Burning Up and Ig's Secret Revealed

**MY OH SO BELOVED REVIEWERS**:

**Tri-Sierra-Tops**** (I'm sorry, light-speed updates will probably not happen again until the summer… I'm glad you like the chapter though!), ****Jace'n'FangLover**** (Not yet, but next chapter there definitely will be some field action! =D), ****Marguerite Spring**** (Thanks for the review! Nudge appreciates that you support her. XD), ****MaxRide125****, ****LilacRose6**** (Tsk tsk Ichibon… Poor Iggers. And yeah, PMS gets us all. I randomly started crying in English three days ago… XD BUT IGGY DON'T TEASE US OR WE KILL YOU!), ****The Seagull**** (Do you want me to just go back and change the color of the blanket? I'll do that if it makes you happy. XD I'm glad you liked it though. =D), ****EpitomeOfCool**** (I have to say, I got super excited when I saw your name. XD Thanks so much for the review! And the credit for that saying goes to my friend Roxyflipflop. She thinks of the funniest things.), ****Fly On Maximum Taylor Ride,****Love My Writing Or Else**** (First of all, love the penname. =D Second of all, thank you so much! That means a lot to me. Third of all, I am completely honored. =D Thanks!), ****Night Wolf**** (I'm glad you liked it!), ****bloodyXfangs****, ****The Dark Queen of Insanity**** (I only wrote MPOV at 1:45. Oddly, I write really well late at night, so I started the chapter at 1 AM, then wrote until 1:45, when I finished the MPOV. The next day I wrote the FPOV. I thank YOU reviewers for caring! =D), ****Rhaksha Ora**** (Yay!), ****FictionFinatic28**** (Don't worry about it, I do that too sometimes on my iPod. =P), ****Ninjastar954**** (Good point… Poor Nudgekins. XD Thanks for the review!), ****padfootlover109**** (I think you meant Lissa, not Maria. Max didn't punch her. XD Fang would probably kill Max if she punched Maria. And yeah, I either get annoyed or inexplicably giggly whenever I write about Lissa's idiocy. Thanks for the review!), Dark Skitty Power**

**THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO MY LOYAL 100th REVIEWER, LILAC ROSE6!**** Thanks so much! I can't believe I got to 100 reviews. That is my personal record now. Thank you all! I got seventeen reviews for one chapter, which is another new record! I love you guys! =D**

**Max's POV**

I stared into the fish tank, enthralled by the large, orange-and-black striped fish roving around inside. A smaller bowl filled with silver guppies flashed in the sunlight. The walls were painted a vivid green, and there was a table full of magazines in front of me, alone with the fish. It was very picturesque, I guess...

For a doctor's office. I _hated_ the doctor's office. Mom had insisted that Ella and I get moved in as well as we could as quickly as we could. Therefore, we had spent the weekend filling out forms and transferring data from all of our old systems to new ones. This moving-in also included visiting the dentist, athletic club, library, and doctor's office. We got memberships at all of these, smiling and introducing ourselves over and over. My cheeks hurt from politely smiling at so many different clerks and officials.

The only place I had liked was the athletic club, a place (unimaginatively) called the Pacific Club. It had an indoor and an outdoor swimming pool, a weight room, boxing arena, a basketball court, and best of all, a huge, sparkling green soccer field. I practically had tears in my eyes when I had gazed over its perfection from the window in the weight room. It was beautiful.

"Ride, Maximum?" the nurse asked, breaking into my recollection of the Pacific Club as she stepped into the waiting room. She was wearing pristine purple scrubs, and her face was slightly screwed up in confusion as she squinted at her clipboard. I hurriedly stood up, wanting to get this over with. With one last glance at the fishbowls, I walked quickly over to the nurse, flashing her what must have been the hundredth polite smile I had exhibited this weekend. "Unique name," the nurse commented, leading me through a door and into a short hallway. I nodded silently in reply, feeling my stomach clench at the growing odor of medicine and sterile sprays. The hallway was lined with closed doors every few feet on both sides, and the nurse led me into one by the end of the hall. "The doctor will be with you in a moment. You can sit here." She waved her hand at a long, paper-covered examining table. I nodded again, not feeling well enough to respond. It was a good thing I was at the doctor's office, because I was feeling really sick.

Having no other choice, I slid up onto the examination table. I felt the paper covering wrinkle, and it crackled loudly when I shifted my legs. There was absolutely no way to get comfortable on the table, I realized. Every time I moved, there was a loud ripping sound as the paper tore under me.

Oops.

I leaned back, craning my neck to try and inspect the damage I had caused to the paper. Thankfully, there were only four rips, long and jagged, on the paper. That was better than I expected. I usually tore at least seven or eight holes before the doctor arrived in my old town. Suddenly, the door burst open, and I whirled around, squinting at the doorway. The sun was in my eyes, and all I could make out was a tall silhouette standing there with a clipboard. "Max?" A familiar voice queried. I frowned, trying to place the voice in my mind. Who could I know here at the doctor's office when I was brand new in town? Obviously it wasn't a classmate, but I couldn't think of any other adults I had met recently. "Hello Max, it's good to see you again," the voice continued, stepping into the room. I could clearly tell that the voice was male, but I still wasn't sure who it belonged to.

Finally, the man stepped out of the sunlight, and closed the door. His voice finally clicked in my head as he turned around and smiled at me. "I'm afraid you'll have to call me Dr. Rianild, here."

It was Fang's dad. Fang's dad was my new doctor. Of course. Of freaking course. I smiled at him, trying to mask my shock. "Hi Jam-, uh, I mean_ Dr. Rianild_," I said, exaggerating his title. James smiled back, pushing his hair away from his forehead with one hand and juggling his papers with the other.

"It will be a pleasure to have you as my patient, Max. I understand that you don't need a check up today, you're just here to sign in?" James confirmed, tapping a pen against his clipboard. I nodded.

"Right-o." Glancing around the room, I shifted on the table again. James' smile turned into a smirk as he heard the paper rip once more.

"Maria and Fang always mutilate the paper too," he confided, looking mischievous. "I can't break them of the habit!"

"But I'm not trying to break the paper, it's just breaking under the weight of my awesomeness!" I protested. James laughed, shaking his head as he wrote something down on his clipboard.

"Fang's argument is somewhere along those lines too. Maria just confesses that she likes the sound of the paper ripping." James sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll just have to deal with it."

"That you will, Doc, that you will," I agreed. "So what do we do now?"

James flipped through a few of the papers on his clipboard. "The basics. Have you been sick or injured recently?"

"Sick, no. I never get sick, not even colds," I replied. "The last time I remember being sick was when I was nine. Injuries though, are commonplace for me. My sister provoked me on the day we had dinner together, and I ended up slamming my left instep into the corner of a wall."

James nodded sympathetically, but there was a smile on his face. "How did she provoke you?"

I shrugged, willing myself to be calm. I didn't want James to think that I liked his son, too. Ella was enough. "She stole one of my favorite drawings and wouldn't give it back." James nodded, writing something else down on his clipboard. "Basically, Ells always gets sick, and I always get hurt, and Ella never injures herself, but I never get sick."

"Hmm, that's interesting," James murmured, adding another note to his clipboard. "Have you had your period recently?" he asked calmly, not seeming embarrassed in the least. I, however, was mortified. I hate it when doctors ask the most embarrassing questions and act like they're nothing. It's so completely aggravating that I can't even describe how awkward it feels. Everyone knows it though, even if the doctors insist that it's normal procedure. And if it's embarrassing when a normal doctor asks you, think about how it is when the doctor is one of your newest guy friends' dads. It's even _more _awkward, if that is physically possible. I don't feel like verbally answering James' oh-so casual question, so I make do with a quick nod. This seems to be satisfactory for him, and he continues on with the questioning."Now, about that instep you injured. Fang told me that you hurt it, but he didn't go into detail. Is it swelling at all?" James stepped closer, putting his clipboard down on the examining table beside me. "Would you mind taking off your shoe so I can look at it?"

"Sure," I muttered, still subdued from the previous question. Without another word, I gently tugged off my left sneaker and sock. James knelt next to the table and took my foot in both hands, carefully probing at different places.

"It doesn't seem to be swelling," James murmured. He pressed a spot on the arch of my foot, and looked up at me. "Did that hurt?" I shook my head. "This?" James pressed at a different place, but I still felt nothing. "How about here?"

All of a sudden, I felt a wave of pain erupt from my foot. I swiftly pulled my foot out of his grasp, gripping it tightly in my own hands. "Ow," I whispered, rocking slowly back and forth. "That hurt a _lot_."

James stood up, dusting off his knees. "The good news is that it's not broken or sprained. The bad news is that you have yourself a nasty bruise."

I shrugged, feeling the pain fade slowly away, draining out of my foot as I pulled my sock back on. "It doesn't matter to me. I wrap both of my ankles in tape whenever I play soccer, and the tape wraps around my instep. I'll be fine." I hopped off the table, stuffing my foot hurriedly back into my sneaker before James could suggest that I skip playing soccer and rest my foot for awhile. That would simply not do, not with the tryouts in less than a week. "So, are we done?" I asked, quickly changing the subject.

James raised an eyebrow at me, but nonetheless looked back down at his clipboard. "Yes, we're done," he confirmed. "You can go now."

With a relieved sigh, I started out of the room. The strong antiseptic-y smell pervading every particle of the air in here was giving me a headache. "Oh, and Max?" James called after me. I paused, my hand resting on the door knob. James smiled at me suddenly, and I was almost blinded. He had _very _white teeth. "I know you know I was going to suggest taking a break from soccer for awhile. You're just like Fang in that respect. He doesn't know when to quit either."

"I know when to quit," I replied. "Never."

James looked surprised for a moment, then smiled again. This time, it wasn't a blinding smile, but more a slightly sad, yet approving one. "I'm glad you think that. Now go, off with you! It will be nice to have you as a patient, Max!"

"Thanks, Doc!" I returned, grinning. I closed the door quietly after me as I exited the room, heading back down the hallway the way I had come. Mom and Ella were waiting for me in the reception room, both avidly watching the fish bowls and talking quietly. "I'm done," I told them, heading for the exit. "Let's go!"

Mom laughed, standing up to follow me. "You just can't get out of the doctor's fast enough, can you Max?" she teased, setting her magazine down next to a fish bowl. I shook my head vigorously, causing Mom to laugh again. Ella shared my opinion though, because she sprang out of her chair and walked very quickly towards the door. We burst through the door like we were starving and it led out to an all-you-can-eat buffet, gasping and laughing. Mom shook her head as she followed at a more sedate pace. "You girls are so silly," she reprimanded us as we slid into the car. "It's just the doctor's office."

"Exactly," Ella and I replied, shuddering in unison. We both brightened, grinning at each other.

"Great minds think alike-"

"And then, there's ours!"

Mom shook her head again, smiling at us in the rearview mirror. "So silly," she repeated. "So, silly girls. Who's up for a smoothie?"

"I am!" Ella squealed, starting to bounce up and down in her seat in anticipation.

"Me too," I agreed, my smile widening at the prospect of smoothies. "That sounds amazing."

"Then let's go," Mom replied, turning her blinker on. Ella and I cheered emphatically as we pulled into the parking lot of Jamba Juice. I could practically taste the smoothing on my tongue already as we barreled out of the car and into the store. A Jamba Juice was worth a short trip to the doctor's office.

Maybe.

**Fang's POV**

"Mom! I'm home!" I called as I kicked the door to the house open. Slinging my backpack down next to the staircase, I wandered into the kitchen. Mom was standing by the table, supervising Maria as she meticulously shaded in the sections of Color-by-Number worksheet. I envy my little sister sometimes, with her fun, first grader homework. She gets to color in a picture of smiling ladybugs, while I solve complicated geometry problems, and translate advanced French into English.

Mom looked up and smiled at me, interrupting my mental homework rant. "Hello Fang. Did I get you into trouble this morning? I'm sorry I made you late," she apologized, absentmindedly smoothing Maria's dark curls with her fingers as she spoke.

"It's okay. Ms Jean just wrote me a late pass for homeroom," I assured her, heading towards the fridge for a snack. Maria looked up at me, gazing directly into my eyes with her own huge, dark ones.

"You was late?" she asked, looking concerned.

"You _were _late," Mom corrected her gently. "And yes, Fang was a bit tardy today."

"I'm not retarded!" I protested jokingly, opening the top of my yogurt and tossing the foil into the trash. Mom narrowed her eyes disapprovingly, and I fell back into my natural state of silence. I quickly exited the room, taking my yogurt with me.

"Where are you going?" Mom called after me, still standing behind Maria's chair.

"Room," I grunted in reply, grabbing my backpack and beginning to ascend the staircase.

"What are you going to do?" she persisted, now shouting so I could hear her from the kitchen.

'Homework," I returned. Mom sighed loudly, and I stifled a small smile. She always got annoyed when I spoke in one-word sentences. I walked into my room, shut the door, and fell back on my bed. My backpack rolled onto the floor, and I just stared up at my ceiling for awhile, thinking.

Today had been Max's second day at Cromwell, and she had been unreasonably grumpy for the entire morning. Everyone else seemed to just put up with her mood, but for some reason it plagued me all day that she was angry at something I did, that she wouldn't talk to me ever again. Somehow, I had mortally offended her, and now she was planning on switching schools again so she wouldn't have to see my face ever again. I would have to employ Gazzy to vouch for me and convince her to stay at Cromwell and play on our soccer team. It was the only thing I could think of, and I spent most of history paying no attention whatsoever to Ms Hell, as Iggy called the teacher, and instead devising a speech to apologize to Max for whatever unforgivable act of offense I had committed in the day that I had known her.

Luckily, by lunchtime Max was smiling and speaking again. She slid into the seat next to me at our table, looking cheerful. "Hey Fang," she greeted me, seeming slightly bashful. I nodded in reply, any words I had wanted to say sticking uncomfortably in my throat. People always thought I was just antisocial, but that wasn't the whole reason I never spoke very much. Usually, when I wanted to say something, I just couldn't find the words to express it. True, I did have an antisocial streak in me, but that wasn't the only factor in my silence. I worked better through action, not words.

Unfortunately, I had not known Max long enough for her to understand this troublesome trait of mine. She apparently thought I was icing her out because of her attitude in homeroom and science, because she turned in her seat and looked worriedly at me. "Look Fang, I know that I've barely known you for a full day, but I also know that I want you to be my friend. You seem like the kind of person who could understand what I do without me having to explain it. I don't know how I know this, but I think that we could be great friends. Best friends, even. Just please don't be mad at me 'cause I was in a mood this morning. Blame my sister," Max offered, her lips twitching in a hint of a smile. What I did next surprised both of us.

I smiled widely back.

"Yeah, I'd like to be friends with you, Max," I told her quietly, looking directly in her eyes. Max sighed in relief, and started to look back down at her lunch. "But," I added. Instantly, Max snapped her head back up again. I smirked, feeling strangely powerful. "You have to teach me how to be a faster runner. I saw you outrun Gazzy and Nudge this morning. That's pretty much impossible." Feeling slightly awkward, I fell back into silence. Hopefully, Max would know what I was thinking.

She did. Max smiled at me playfully, and bumped her shoulder into mine. "Yeah, of course I could. I've always been a fast runner," she admitted, looking mischievously happy. "That was the way I got respect from the boys in grade school, by beating them in races every day." My lips twitched at the thought of an eight-year-old Max, probably with a long braid hanging down her back, hands on her hips, and laughing at the losers of the races. It was very likely this was the actual scenario, judging from my knowledge about Max. "But," Max added. I narrowed my eyes at her, and she smiled, letting me know that she was purposely mimicking me, and enjoying it. "You have to show me how to pull off those moves you were using yesterday. They fooled all the guys, and I happen to know that they're all great at playing defense." Max smiled wider suddenly, and her voice was louder when she spoke again. "You know, Fang, I think I might try out for goalie for the Cromwell soccer team," she remarked airily. I raised an eyebrow at her, knowing that she was directing this comment at someone else. "There won't be much competition at all, anyway. I'd probably make first string, no problem."

"Oh yeah?" a voice growled behind us. I turned to see the male Max standing there with his lunch, staring at the female Max in a way that made me want to smack him for some reason. "Want to repeat that on that field, Ride?"

"Anytime, Max II," The Max sitting next to me retorted, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. "After all, I am the more superior Max I."

"I was here first though!" Max II whined, falling into the seat next to Max. "Don't I get to be Max I?"

"Nope," Max replied, popping the 'p'. "I'm a girl, which automatically makes me cooler. Therefore, I am Max I, and ye shall be Max II."

"Amen!" Iggy yelled from his spot two seats away. "Now, Max II, quit your flirting and eat your lunch!"

Surprisingly, Max II's ears reddened, and he looked embarrassed. "Shut up, Iggy," he muttered, looking down as he took a bite of his sandwich. Max looked embarrassed too, and I noted that her cheeks were pinker than they had been before. For some strange reason, this really bothered me.

"So, Iggy," I said loudly, speaking up for the first time in awhile. Automatically, every head at the table turned to look at me. When I actually talk at lunch, my friends tend to listen. I was happy to notice that Max was paying no attention whatsoever to the other Max sitting next to her, her gaze focused on me.

Then I realized that everyone was waiting for me to continue. As they always do, words lodged in my throat, wedging uncomfortably tightly in my esophagus. "Iggy," I repeated, trying to start again. "Isn't there something you'd like to tell our dear little Max here?"

Max immediately thrust an elbow at me, which I deftly blocked. "I'm not your dear little Max," she muttered, trying to elbow me again. I rolled my eyes at her, instead staring at Iggy. Somehow, he could always feel when I was looking at him, so I knew I was causing some effect.

"Damn you Fang, and your inability to be subtle," Iggy muttered, trying to sink down under the lunch table. Nudge and Gazzy, who were sitting on either side of him, immediately pulled him up.

"Come on Igs, just tell her. Then she'll know and we can all go on with our lives," Gazzy reasoned. Iggy grunted in reply, his pale blue eyes trained on the food in front of him.

There was silence at our table for a moment, broken only by the chatter and commotion around us. Suddenly, Max shifted angrily in her seat, and I realized how difficult it must be for her to sit and wait for someone to give her an answer to our discomfort and Iggy's sullenness. With Max, I got the feeling that she wasn't one to sit and be idle. She was wrong about the soccer team. Max would be a horrible goalie. Instead of waiting at our goal for the other team to come shoot at her, she would probably bully some defender into guarding the goal, then steal the ball from someone and take it up to score on the other team.

I could totally see that happening.

"Iggy, just tell Max, or I'll tell her, and you can deal with her being mad that you didn't have the guts to admit one of your own characteristics," I finally said. Iggy turned his head to look at me, his expression indecisive.

"Igs, just tell me, or I swear I will kick your skinny little butt from here into next Wednesday. Then, I'll go into the future, retrieve your butt, bring it back, and kick it back to Wednesday again just for stress relief," Max threatened, sounding like she would happily carry out her words. Iggy looked alarmed, and the indecision faded from his face. Silence reigned at the table again for a moment. Max's fists clenched, and I would have bet money that Iggy's butt would have been flying towards next week, when-

"I'm blind," he blurted out, his sightless eyes directed at his fists. He refused to even pretend to look at anyone, like he usually does. "I'm handicapped, flawed, defective, whatever you'd like to call it. I'm a tall, blind freak. Are you happy now? Is my butt safe?" Iggy's lips twisted up in a sarcastic smile.

"Iggy, I didn't know-" Max began, looking a bit remorseful.

Iggy cut her off. "Of course you didn't know. I didn't _want _you to know. Do I _look _like I'm blind? No, I don't. Do I _act _like I'm blind? _Again, no._ Heck, I don't use a cane, or a guide dog, or even have to feel to check where I'm going. I can deal fine with anything people who _can_ see can deal with. Some things I can even do better. But no one cares. As soon as they hear that I'm blind, they assume I'm useless, helpless, unable to walk places because my eyes don't work. So yeah, I try to hide it. If you had some weird defect, like if you had wings sprouting out of your back or something, wouldn't you try to hide it?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought. Well, now you know my big secret." Iggy looked angry, his pale eyes lit up and his expression annoyed. Abruptly, he stood up, grabbed his lunch and tossed it with ultimate precision into the nearest trash can. Iggy heard it clunk against the side, a satisfied smile side-winding its way onto his face. "How many of you seeing people could even do _that?_"

None of us answered, simply watching him.

Iggy's smile wavered, and his eyes flashed again. "I'm not hungry. Later," he muttered, stalking angrily out of the lunch room. We watched him leave in silence. No one could find the words to speak.

"I didn't know," Max whispered, looking upset. Max II put his arm around her shoulders, holding her against his side in a comforting manner.

"Don't worry about it. You didn't know, like you said. There's nothing you can do about it. Just let Iggy burn off some steam," Max II advised. Max smiled weakly, and a flash of something burned in my chest as I watched her press into Max II's side. I stood up, not liking the hot feeling lodged in my throat. Everyone watched, surprised, as I stepped away from the table, throwing the rest of my lunch away.

"I'm gonna go," I muttered, unable to take their inquisitive stares any longer. "Bye." Without another word, I hurried out of the cafeteria.

As I left, I heard Max II ask, "What's wrong with him?"

"I dunno," Max replied. "He was acting kind of weird."

_I was acting weird?_ I thought, letting the cafeteria doors shut on Max's words. _How about you, getting all cozy with Max? Isn't that a little weird? _I shook my head, disgusted with my thoughts. What was I even thinking anymore? I rounded a corner, only to come face to face with Lissa.

"Hi Fangy," she trilled, looking chipper and bright. I nodded at her, trying to move around her and keep walking. Lissa simply maneuvered with me, staying right in front of me. "I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner this Friday," Lissa offered casually, as if we were still dating. "Maybe a romantic place like Pallinda's."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Lissa, I don't want to-" I started, feeling the hot feeling in my chest increase. _I dunno. He was acting kind of weird_, Max's voice chanted in my head. Suddenly, I didn't feel so good.

"Pallinda's doesn't sound good?" Lissa asked, sounding genuinely worried. "Maybe La Rue then."

"Lissa, you don't get it. I broke up with you," I explained, trying to be patient through the repeating of Max's words in my head, and the tight, burning sensation in my chest.

"Fang," she whined, drawing out the single syllable into at least six. "Stop being so difficult!"

"I'm not being difficult," I insisted, the burning feeling rising even more as I tried to keep my voice level and calm.

"Here, I'll change your mind for you. Help you forget we ever had an argument," Lissa purred, grabbing the neck of my shirt. Before I could blink, her mouth was on mine again, and I was left in a forced slouch in order not to be choked. Suddenly, the burning in my chest rose in front of my eyes, and I didn't see Lissa anymore, just flames.

"Stop!" I roared, pushing her forcefully away. She stumbled back heavily, tripping in her high-heeled shoes. "Just leave me alone! No means no! Just… Stop!" I struggled with the words trapped in my throat, forcing them away before they figured out a way to be said. Lissa stared at me, shocked. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. Turning on my heel, I ran down the hallway, heading towards the track. I didn't stop when I hit the rubbery material of the track, my feet pounding against the ground as I sprinted a full circuit at top speed. At the end of the lap, I couldn't stop running, and had to sprint another one. And another. And another. I couldn't find it in me to stop running. It seemed as if I ran enough laps, the burning in my chest would disappear, and Max's voice would stop ringing through my head.

_That was the way I got respect from the boys in grade school, by beating them in races._

_After all, I am the more superior Max I._

_I dunno. He's acting kind of weird._

_After all, I am the more superior Max I._

_After all, I am the more superior Max I._

Vaguely, I heard the bell ring for the end of the lunch. Somehow I made my way off the track and stumbled into art class. My legs collapsed under me as I fell into the chair and stared at the whiteboard. I felt disconnected. My eyes locked on the door right as Max pushed it open and strode in. With a wide smile on her face, she sat down in the chair next to me. "Hey Fang," she greeted me, casual as ever. "Did you see Iggy?"

I shook my head. Max sighed, pulling out her drawing from yesterday. It was slightly creased, but it was still a magnificent picture. Max had smudged a few lines, and my chin was too pointed, but the drawing was truly realistic. I looked at myself on the paper, wondering if that was exactly how Max saw me, with my eyes lit up and my hair over my eyes. Was this her impression of me? I pulled out my drawings from the last class also, and the one of her happened to be on top. I saw Max's eyes flicker over to my paper, and a small smile tugged at her lips before she turned back to redo a few things on her own drawing. I gazed at my picture, mentally comparing it to the girl sitting next to me. This was definitely the impression I had of Max; fierce, dominating, and ready to fight. To finish the drawing, I had been thinking of drawing the other Max in goal, watching her shoot with fear evident on his face. However, after today, I didn't want Max II to appear in the drawing with Max. No. Instead, I sketched in Iggy, wearing a comically clueless expression. I smiled tightly at the product. There.

One Max was all I needed.

"Fang!" My mom's voice broke me out of thoughts, reminding me that I was already at home, not back in art class with Max. "Fang, dinner is going to be ready in about twenty minutes!"

"Okay!" I called back, twisting onto my stomach on my bed. Thinking back to my drawing in art class, I felt the same tight, unfeeling smile appear on my face.

Yes. One Max was definitely all I needed. Maximum Ride.

**Yeah, I kinda like this chapter. I like writing FPOV, because Fang is so deep! Boo-yah! XD**

**Nudge: A few people wanted my POV to appear in the story!**

**Gazzy: But a lot of others said you would just ramble the entire time.**

**Nudge: SO?**  
**Gazzy: -facepalm-**

**So yeah… Maybe I'll write just one chapter in NPOV, just to humor my little minion.**

**Review? It's good for your soul!**

**Angel: Not really. It's good for TMI's soul, though!**

**True. But I think it's good for your soul too! XD**

**~TMI~**


	10. Soccer Tryouts

**MY OH SO BELOVED REVIEWERS:**

**bloodyXfangs**** (You reviewed just in time. XD And totally! FANG IS MY DEEP LITTLE BIRD KID! XD), ****Lilac Rose6**** (Hmmmm… I may do IPOV next, Iggers. XD I was so excited when I saw that you were 100th! That made me happy too. XD), ****Rainpath-Lizzie**** (XD I thought I heard something… LOL I'm glad you liked it!), ****Anna**** (Nudge now worships you. XD And Fang is blind, just not physically, like Igs… XD), ****Jace'n'FangLover**** (SOCCER TRYOUTS THIS CHAPPIE! XD I didn't go into a ton of detail about Max kicking butt, 'cause that can get Mary-Sue-ish, which I am desperately trying to avoid, but still… Thanks for the review! =D), ****padfootlover109**** (I think I will write a NPOV chap, just to make Nudge happy. Thanks so much for the review!), ****Fly On Maximum Taylor Ride**** (It means a lot to me that you review, so your reward is a mention! =D Thanks again!), ****Writersforthewin**** (I'm glad you like my story! And no, Maria isn't Angel, she's her best friend. That's explained in this chapter. Umm… I haven't read Twilight. So Idk exactly what that means… Thanks for the warning anyway though!), ****Rhaksha Ora**** (OH YEAH GO NIGAHIGA! Sham-WOOHOO!), ****The Seagull**** (Okay, I'll keep the blanket pink. LOL thank you for the review Seagull! =D), ****PurpleTea88**** (I know, right? That's why I was so excited. I'm sorry that that paragraph was too long, I'll go back and fix that. I usually just write one draft of each chapter, not multiples, so sometimes I miss stuff like that. Lissa DID get what she deserved! Lol I love hating on her for some reason. It's just so fun. Thank you so much for your helpful review! Your kind are the best to read, I have to say. Thanks again!), ****kk24**** (that is the most generous offer I've ever gotten on ff. I'll totally write a chapter in three days for a promise of a ton of reviews. Here goes...)**

**Spacing issues fixed as of 11/12/21**

**MPOV**  
"Hey Max I!" Max II greeted me, jogging towards where I stood by the school gym. I smiled at him, feeling relieved that one of my friends had finally showed up.

"Sup Max II?" I asked, slapping a high five with him. "Αre you ready for tryouts?"

"Definitely!" he declared, smiling brightly. "I've been waiting for tryouts since the first day of school."

"Me too!" I joked. Max II looked blankly at me, not getting my humor.

"But you just started last week," he pointed out slowly, his forehead scrunched in concentration.

I raised an eyebrow, trying not to be affected by the awkwardness level rising. "Yeah, I did," I agreed. "That's what I meant..." Max II's face remained blank. He didn't get it. Okay then... "Anyway, umm..." I tried to think of a subject change. "Umm-"

"Hey Maxes!" Gazzy yelled, starting to run towards us. I smiled, happy to have a distraction. "Are you ready to RUMBLE?" he roared, stomping his feet exaggeratedly. I rolled my eyes, but Max II laughed.

"Totally, Gaz!" Max II agreed, his expression losing its confusion finally. "We'll make the team, no problem."

Gazzy grinned. "Well, of course. I'm wearing my lucky cleats!" Max II and I looked down to inspect Gazzy's supposedly lucky footwear. The cleats were shimmery silver, with blue and white streaks on the sides. However, both laces were broken, the toes were horribly scuffed, and there was a small hole developing on the right toe. I could clearly see his black sock against the pale material.

"Nice," I commented, trying to ignore the fact the shoes were obviously on their last legs. "How long have you had those?"

"About a year," Gazzy replied nonchalantly, his eyes shining. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Dude, I can see your soc-" Max II started. I swiftly elbowed him before he could offend Gazzy, and he shut up. I smiled sweetly at both him and Gaz before turning to walk towards the girl's locker rooms.

"I gotta go change now," I announced, swinging my soccer bag for emphasis. Both boys nodded, then put their heads together and started discussing strategy. Shaking my head slightly, I headed into the locker room and started changing my clothes.

I was almost fully dressed, just slipping on my first sock, when Nudge and Ella burst in, chattering their heads off. "Max!" Ella practically shouted, running over to me. "Are you ready for tryouts? How's your foot doing?"

I rolled my eyes at her, rubbing my instep. "It's still bruised, but I can run fine. You're lucky I can kick well with both my feet, or you'd be at the bottom of a lake right now," I threatened. Ella squeaked, running back to hide behind Nudge.

Nudge shook her head at me. "Tsk tsk, Max. Giving your little sister death threats? How dare you."

"She deserves it!" I protested. "Don't you have any siblings, Nudge?"

"Nah," she replied, starting to change into her outfit for tryouts. "But I practically share Maria with Fang. She's so cute! Oh, and Gazzy has a little sister too, she's best friends with Maria! Her name is Angel, and she is just about the cutest little girl you will ever meet, including Maria even!" Nudge exclaimed, tugging on her shorts. "I just love Ange and Ria. I'm their honorary big sister. They've initiated me and everything!" she added with a grin. "I had to kidnap Gazzy's pet turtle and hide him in the teapot, then sneak into Fang's room and steal a pair of his boxers!" Nudge giggled as she remembered her orientation. "Even Fang's boxers are black, as you might imagine," Nudge added, grinning even wider. I blanched, dropping my shoe laces with a start. I did _not_ want to imagine Fang's boxers. The subject was making me feel vastly uncomfortable, and I resumed tying my shoe in order to escape Nudge's rant quickly. Ella grinned at me, obviously knowing exactly what I was thinking. I narrowed my eyes at her, mentally daring her to say a word about Fang and/or his underwear.

Ella took the dare, much to my dismay. "Hey Nudge, do you still have Fang's boxers?" Ella asked, giggling wildly. I felt my eyes widen, and straightened up, knocking over my soccer bag in my hurry to leave.

Nudge nodded, smiling wickedly. "Yep! They're in my closet somewhere," she confided. Ella and Nudge burst into giggles, and I took that moment as an opportunity to retreat.

"I'm gonna go outside..." I mumbled, grabbing my bag and forcing myself not to sprint out of the place. Their giggles echoed, following me out of the room until the door swung shut. I closed my eyes in relief, sliding back to lean against the door. Thank the lord that was over.

"Embarrassing locker room encounter?" a familiar voice asked, tinted with amusement. My eyes flew open, and I jumped into an upright position.

"Fang!" I whined, crossing my arms. The boy in question smirked, his whole body language radiating that he was enjoying my embarrassment. "Do you make noise when you walk? I didn't even hear you come up!" It was true. I hadn't heard a single sound to indicate someone was walking towards me, and yet here he was, leaning against the wall on the other side of the hall.

Fang shrugged, the smirk fading from his face. It was replaced with a neutral, carefully emotionless expression. I didn't mind, though. This was the expression I had gotten used to seeing over the last week. It turned out that our moms had hit it off immediately, and were now practically best friends. As a result, we were seeing a lot of each other. Mostly when our families met up, the adults would talk, Ella would go off to play with Maria, and Fang and I would head outside to play soccer. We didn't hold back when we played each other, not caring if either of us got elbowed in the gut or tripped over a hip. It was part of our game.

"Max! Fang!" Nudge squealed. She came barging out of the locker room with my sister close behind, decked out in soccer gear. Her hair was styled in an impeccable ponytail, and her cleats were purple with an orange Nike swish across the side. Ella was wearing a simple green t-shirt, black shorts, and white socks, and was kneeling to secure the laces on her bright green cleats. I was proud of my little sister. Even if I always beat her, I knew she was actually a decent player, and she looked the part. "ZOMG I can't wait for tryouts to start! I've been waiting to play on the school soccer team since the first day of school!" Nudge exclaimed, unknowingly repeating exactly what Max II had said.

I grinned, deciding to use the same reply on them that I had for Max II. I had a feeling that Fang, Nudge, and Ella would appreciate my joke more than Max II had. "I've been looking forward to it since my first day, too!" I agreed.

Ella nodded vigorously. "Me too!"

Nudge giggled wildly, and a slow smile broke out across Fang's face. "I think we've waited just a bit longer than you too," Fang remarked. Nudge whirled on him, looking disapprovingly at his attire.

"As for YOU, mister!" Nudge began, her voice sounding like she was about to give Fang the scolding of his life. "What is with you? Do you ever wear anything other than black? I mean, look at you! Even when you're playing soccer, you're wearing black shorts, a black shirt, black socks- even your freaking cleats are plain black! Do you have a vendetta against color or something? I mean, really! Even your freaking BOXERS are black!" Nudge put her hands on her hips threateningly. Fang, who had begun to look a bit stiff at Nudge's scolding, suddenly looked inquisitively at her.

"How would you know if my boxers are black, Nudge?" Fang asked, sounding as if he didn't particularly want to know the answer.

"Uhhh..." Nudge stalled for time, looking with alarm between me and Ella. I pointedly avoided her eyes, not wanting to be sucked into this conversation. Ella simply began to giggle again. Fang was waiting for Nudge to answer, when suddenly a very shrill whistle blew. "Oh! There's Coach Walker calling us, like sheep to the shepherd, we better get going right now!" Nudge babbled quickly, bounding away from us. Fang raised an eyebrow at me, but I ignored it.

"Nudge is right. We should go now, or we'll start the whole tryouts with a bad record for being late," I suggested, breaking into a jog to go after Nudge. Ella nodded, following me as she attempted to stifle a few final giggles. I could feel Fang's still questioning gaze on my back, but ignored it as best as I could. It would be for the best if Fang didn't find out about Nudge's little 'older sister' initiation.

"Hello, my name is Coach Walker, but you can call me Coach Anne, or just Anne. I will be watching you all practice today to decide on who will be asked to join the Cromwell High coed soccer team this year. Work your hardest, play your best. I expect to see some good ball control, skills, and speed out there. We'll start with a few simple drills." Anne turned to pick up a few cones, and I took the opportunity to look her over. She didn't seem very athletic, with a petite frame and perfect French nails. However, I noted the way she deftly handled the ball as she explained the drill to us and had to rethink my first impression of her. Anne had amazing ball control. She pulled Croifs and Maradonas around the cones of the drill like they were nothing, and ended the demonstration with a complicated sequence of several lightning-fast moves. Anne's feet almost blurred over the ball as she pulled a stepover, rolled the ball to her other foot, Croifed it, then twirled a neat Maradona back the other way. When she looked back up at us again, there was a short silence. Then every player trying out burst into spontaneous applause. Anne smiled, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I want all of my players to be able to do that by the end of the season. Now get out there and impress me," she ordered. Immediately, everyone claimed a soccer ball from their own bags or Anne's supply and began to dribble, pulling moves every few seconds. It was easy to pick Nudge and Ella out of the mass of players by their bright cleats, and I located Fang by looking for a dark spot in the swirling crowd of colorful soccer uniforms and equipment. Nudge was right. I hadn't seen him in anything other than black clothing for the whole week I had known Fang. It was mildly creepy.

"Watch out, Max!" Gazzy yelled, quickly cutting to the side in order to not run into me. I shook my head, snapping out of my reverie.

"Sorry Gaz," I apologized, Croifing the ball at my feet in order to stay next to Gazzy for a minute. "I got distracted."

Gazzy smirked. "It looks like the other Max is distracted too," he replied before pulling the ball back and turning in the opposite direction. I frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Still dribbling, I looked around to find Max II. When I finally located him, our eyes locked, and I immediately knew that he had been staring at me. Heck, he had probably been gawking for awhile now, judging by the vacant expression on his face. I felt instantly self conscious. Was my underwear showing or something? I dribbled over towards Max II, wondering what had gotten into him.

"Hey, Max II," I said, pulling a step over right next to him. He snapped into focus, the vacant expression fleeing his face. It was replaced by a wide grin, and he started to dribble again.

"Yeah Max I?" he asked, neatly executing a quick scissors move. I rolled my eyes at his obvious showing-off in the form of the move. Max II was a good player, but he also happened to be the kind that liked everybody to know he was a good player. He wanted everyone to see him and think he was the best on the field. That kind of player was not my particular favorite.

"Is there some sort of horrific smudge on my nose I should know about, or were you just spacing?" I copied his scissors move, just to show that I wasn't impressed by his bragging. Max's nose wrinkled slightly, and I smirked.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" he asked. He looked genuinely confused.

"You were just staring at me a minute ago," I explained, reaching up to push some escaping wisps of hair behind my ears. "Did I suddenly develop a massive pimple or something?"

To my surprise, Max II started to blush, his ears and cheeks reddening massively to match the color of his hair. "Umm, no. Th-there's nothing," he assured me in a stutter. Suddenly, he veered off to the side, melting back into the crowd of players. I shrugged, wondering absentmindedly why he was acting so flustered just 'cause he had been spacing out. I did it all the time. It wasn't a big deal.

"Stop!" Anne's voice rang across the field. Obediently, everyone trapped their soccer balls under their feet and turned towards Anne. She walked across the drill, handing out green pinnies to certain people. When she stopped in front of me, I straightened, looking her directly in the eye. She held my gaze for a moment, looking at me seriously, before breaking out into a wide smile. "Maximum Ride?" she asked, her voice sounding friendly.

"Yeah," I confirmed, looking at her warily. How would the coach already know me?

"I've heard a lot of good things about you," Anne continued, unaware of my thoughts. "I'm glad to have you trying out for the Cromwell team."

"Umm, thanks, I guess," I murmured, accepting the pinny she handed me. On the other side of the drill, Fang caught my eyes and raised an eyebrow at me. I shrugged in reply, putting on the pinny.

"Divide up into your teams now! Pinnies versus shirts," Anne instructed, walking back to the sidelines and picking up a clipboard. "We're going to playing a bit of possession right now. I don't care if your best friend is on the other team- beat them to the ball! And, go!" Suddenly, Anne dropkicked a ball high into the air. I ran to where I could see it was going to fall, my eyes on the ball dropping from the sky. Two other people from the shirts' team had run to the ball, and one of them looked ready to trap it as soon as it hit the turf. I analyzed this quickly, jumping to head the ball out of the air before it got to her feet. The girl who was going to trap it looked at me in surprise, but I had already moved on. I needed to impress Anne. I needed to be on the soccer team. No one would get in my way.

It turned out that I had headed the ball directly to Gazzy, who was on my team. He grinned at me, faking a left cut to shake off the boy who had come to challenge him. "Max I!" he yelled, passing the ball to my feet. I grinned back at him, trapping the ball and dribbling a few feet to some open space. A girl ran straight up to me, trying to kick the ball away, so I Croifed it back and passed to another girl wearing a pinny. She flashed me a smile before running off with the ball. We passed around for awhile, keeping the ball entirely in our possession for a few minutes straight. Then, a dark blur shot out of nowhere right as Gazzy passed to another boy on our team, neatly stealing the ball.

Fang performed a victory Maradona over the ball before speeding off to a corner of the playing grid. I rolled my eyes, watching as the girl I had passed to ran to try and retrieve the ball. Fang faked her out, passing the ball directly to Lucas, who was on his team. Lucas promptly sent the ball over to another girl, who passed straight to another player on their team. The four of them played in a diamond formation around a few of the pinny players, passing to one another's feet with perfect aim. There was no doubt that these four would make the team.

Fang received the ball again, and I started to sprint straight behind him in a stealth attack. I caught Gazzy's eye and jerked my head at Fang. We had the same weird mind connection thing that had happened on my first day at school, where we both understood exactly what the other was going to do. Gazzy grinned, before charging Fang straight on. His teammates watched as Gazzy and I both ran at Fang, and at least four of them yelled, "Man on!" in an attempt to alert him.

Fang obviously thought they meant Gazzy, and simply Croifed the ball to turn away from him. A wide grin tugged at my lips when I saw Fang's expression as he crashed directly into me. I had run at him from behind until I was right on his tail, and we collided hard, with a loud impact. Fang tripped over the ball and my cleat, consequently kicking my own feet out from under me. I couldn't hold back a yelp as I fell backwards, Fang sailing right along with me. My eyes closed instinctively as the bottom dropped out of my stomach.

My elbows hit the ground first, immediately burning as they scraped against the turf. Just to make matters worse, Fang landed directly on my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I wheezed loudly, trying to breathe, as Fang scrambled off my torso. His normally neutral expression was now worried, and he gently slid his hands under my back, trying to help me sit up. The ball rolled off to the side, unnoticed, as I opened my eyes and looked directly into his.

The breath got knocked out of me all over again. I may not have mentioned this before, but Fang definitely has beautiful eyes. They look practically bottomless, twin wells of darkness with a slightly darker pupil in the center. Right now they were looking directly at me, and nothing else. I continued to wheeze, wishing I could look away from Fang so I could breathe better. "Max?" he asked gently, continuing to look worriedly into my eyes. "Did I hurt you?"

I simply shook my head in reply, not having the breath to actually say anything. The worry drained from Fang's face, and he raised a teasing eyebrow at me. "Oh really? You're perfectly fine?" he asked amusedly. I nodded, struggling to sit up by myself. Fang rolled his eyes, standing up and offering me a hand. I ignored it, choosing to stagger ungracefully to my feet on my own.

Anne had apparently started jogging over as soon as Fang and I had tumbled, because she was right at my side when I finally managed to stand properly. "Are you sure you're okay, Max?" she asked, looking seriously at me. "It's fine if you need to sit out for awhile. I understand."

"Yeah, Fang weighs a ton," Gazzy agreed, grinning at me. Fang rolled his eyes, but I smiled weakly back at Gaz.

"I'm okay," I assured Anne, my voice coming out hoarse. "I want to keep playing."

Anne stared at me for a moment, making sure I wasn't faking being alright. I was really okay, just a little breathless now. To prove it, I jogged over to where the ball had rolled, executing a perfect Maradona and continuing to dribble. "See?" I added, doing another Maradona right after the first. "I'm fine!"

To my surprise, Anne smiled and shook her head in defeat. "Like mother, like daughter," she muttered, moving to the sidelines. "Play on!" Immediately, Fang was on my tail, trying to take the ball away from me.

"I need revenge," he murmured in my ear as he stuck his foot out to trip me. I grinned back at him, nimbly hopping over his extended appendage.

"Just try me," I retorted, passing the ball off to Gazzy. Fang sprinted towards him instead, but Gazzy passed back to another girl on our team. The rest of the possession game was fairly even, and it ended quickly when Anne blew another long, shrill blast on her whistle.

"Moving on!" she bellowed, her voice much louder than I would've thought it might have been. "I've seen your skills, dribbling, and passing. Now I want to see your shots! Bring all the balls over to the goals and set up for PKs!"

"PKs?" a girl whispered behind me, sounding confused. I turned around and smiled at her.

"That's short for penalty kicks," I explained. "You know, when there's a foul inside the goal box and a player gets to take a direct shot on goal?"

"Oh," the girl said, sounding as if she still didn't understand. "I get it now."

I turned back around, feeling fairly sure that that particular girl would not make the team.

"Who plays goalie?" Anne asked, tossing a ball up and down in her hands. Immediately, Max II's hand shot up in the air, followed by a sophomore and another freshman. "Let's switch off between you three then. You'll take shots later," she instructed. "Get your gloves on."

The shooting drill passed by too quickly, as all shooting drills do for me. Most of the people trying out had decent shots, but all three goalies were amazing at blocking them. When the sophomore stopped my low shot to the right corner with an inhuman dive, I shook my head in amazement. It was nearly impossible to score on the sophomore goalie in particular. He was tall and lanky, with long arms and absolutely no fear of the ball. Of course, Max II was great, but the sophomore was in an entirely different league. The other freshman goalie was a tall girl with a long blonde ponytail and neon orange cleats. She was also amazing, catching shots out of the air like she was born doing it.

"She makes that look so easy!" Nudge complained, watching as her high shot was plucked neatly away from the goal by the girl for the third time. "That's just not fair!"

"But think about it; if she's that good, then we'll have a great advantage in our games if she's in goal," Gazzy reasoned, tapping his ball onto the penalty spot. He took a few steps backward, then ran at the ball and slammed his foot into it in a single fluid motion. The goalie's eyes widened, and she dove to the side in an attempt to catch Gazzy's shot. She missed, though, and the ball sailed right over her hands and into the open net. Gazzy whooped, and Nudge and I both punched him.

"Show-off," Ella muttered, kicking at him. Gazzy dodged the kick with a grin, heading towards the back of the line to shoot again.

"Of course Gazzy doesn't care if the girl's a good goalie," Nudge grumbled as she fell back in line. "He never misses anyway."

After the shooting drill, Anne divided us up into different teams and arranged a short scrimmage to conclude the tryouts. When I crashed into Gazzy and came away with the ball in my possession, leaving him standing behind me with a confused expression on his face, I heard Anne murmur, "Excellent." I turned just in time to see her write something down on her clipboard and walk back down the sideline. Gazzy had started to pursue me again at that point, so I passed the ball off to Fang, who was on my team, and continued on with the game.

Gazzy's team ended up winning, beating us 4-3. Gazzy himself had scored two of his team's four goals, and assisted the other two. Like I had noted before, Gaz was practically half of a team all by himself. I was happy to have scored at all, though, because the sophomore was playing goalie for his team. As Ella and I walked back home after the tryouts, our cleats clicking on the sidewalk, we argued over the many different points of our game. Ella had been on Gazzy's team, and was adamant about her opinion that her team had completely blown my team off the field.

"Nuh uh," I disagreed.

"Uh huh!" she insisted.

"Nuh uh."

"Uh huh."

"Nuh uh!"

Uh huh!"

"NUH UH!"

"UH HUH!"

"Jeez Ells, you're so uncivilized," I remarked, grinning at her. Ella stuck out her tongue at me before continuing to attempt to prove her point.

"Well, we won," she pointed out. "We scored four goals on you guys."

"And we scored three on you," I reminded her. "One point isn't a lot."

"It's enough," Ella shot back. I rolled my eyes at her.

"The score doesn't even matter that much, Ells. It was an opportunity for Anne to see us in a game situation. And if I do say so myself, my team was pretty effective in defending against you guys."

"Then how come we scored four goals on you?" Ella demanded, smirking.

"Obviously, you had Gazzy on your team," I replied calmly. Ella's smirk dropped, turning to an understanding expression as she nodded.

"Point taken."

"Exactly."

We continued walking in silence, the only sound being the click of our cleats against the pavement. We were both aware that walking on cement wasn't very good for our cleats, but frankly I was too lazy to change shoes, and Mom had promised Ella new cleats by next week.

It was a very soothing noise, anyway.

"Do you think we'll make the team?" Ella asked suddenly, stopping in her tracks as she looked at me. I shrugged, continuing to walk. Ella frowned in reply, tightening her ponytail like she always does when she's agitated. I finally had to stop walking so she wouldn't fall too far behind, and turned around to face her. "Scratch that," Ella continued, her voice slightly sarcastic. "I know _you'll _make the team. Do you think I will, though? I mean, I've got a lot to live up to, with the amazing Maximum Ride as my older sister."

I took a step towards her, but Ella glanced down at the pavement, refusing to look in my eyes. I gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at me. "Ells, I'm sorry if I make anything harder for you than it should be," I told her quietly. "You know I can't bear to do anything with less than my best try. It's just one of those quirky characteristics of mine, just like you can't help but sing along every time 'Grenade' comes on the radio." Ella's lips quirked up in a slight smile, and I let go of her chin, turning around to continue walking. "And for the record, I do think you'll make the team. That was a nice goal on Max II," I added. Ella's smile grew.

"Gazzy gave me a perfect pass," Ella admitted, hurrying to keep up with me. "I swear, it's like Gazzy was born simply for the purpose of playing soccer."

"He's a total prodigy," I agreed. "I had an extremely difficult time beating him, and you know I can take on pretty much anyone."

"But you did beat him," Ella pointed out, smiling. "I would say you're right up with Gazzy in the soccer prodigy ranks."

I shook my head. "No, I think Gaz is a lot better than I'll ever be. I have a few flashy moves, right, and I can handle the ball, but I'm not scoring on every PK I take like Gazzy does. I don't even have any signature moves or anything. Fang makes up his _own _moves!" Immediately, I wanted to take the words back. Any mention of Fang was an invitation for Ella to attempt to persuade me that I like him/he likes me/we're total soul mates, etcetera, etcetera…

"So, about Fang," Ella started, a sly grin twisting on her lips. I held up a hand before she could go any further.

"I refuse to talk about Fang in any way you have in mind," I declared, speeding up. Ella jogged to keep up with me, still grinning wildly.

"Max and Fa-ang, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Ella sang. I started sprinting for home, and Ella quickly fell behind me. She is definitely not as fast as me, and she knows it. "Max!" she whined. "Come back!"

"No!" I called over my shoulder, continuing to run. Ella pouted, but I just kept running. I didn't want to talk at all about Fang in the way Ella meant. Sure, in the past week I had hung out a lot with him, and learned so much that I felt like I had known him since birth. But that didn't automatically make us 'soul mates' like Ella was so set on making me think. I grimaced slightly. Guys were never my forte.

_Like Sam…_

I gritted my teeth, banishing any thoughts of Sam, Brigid, or Fang from my mind. I didn't want a repeat of what had happened the last time I trusted someone outside my family with my feelings. Sam had tossed them to the gutter. I wouldn't let that happen again.

_Fang wouldn't desert me like Sam would_, my mind insisted. I brushed the thoughts away, starting to hum loudly in order to drown out their words. Fang was my friend, not anything else.

And I intended to keep it that way.

**Ugh, I hate making Max so stubborn. But yeah, I would like this story to go on for awhile longer, so she needs to be all SELF-DENYING in order for that to work. XD**

**Gazzy: I like how I'm so special in this one. =D**

**I think that Gazzy and Nudge are too overlooked in the world of Fanfiction, and even in the books! So yeah, I try to put them in my fics as much as I can, especially Gasser. I'm not Team Edward, Team Jacob, Team Iggy, or even Team Fang. I'M A PROUD SUPPORTER OF TEAM GASMAN! BOO-YAH!**

**Review please! =D**

**~TMI~**


	11. Nudge's Chapter short I'm sorry!

**This chappie is Nudgekins' POV, just to appease her.**

**Nudge: Yay! -fistpump-**

**But it's surprisingly short, so imma gonna do a doublé update!**

**Dedicated to my oh so beloved reviewers (there were lots this time! =D): Bookworm2012, grr loves tacos, bloodyXfangs, Chococup21, Fly On Maximum Taylor Ride, Rhaksha Ora, Birdwatched, XxWishingForWingsxX, Some Like it Fluffy, Anna, padfootlover109, Lilac Rose6, ninjastar954, PurpleTea88, Enzio auditoure,The Seagull, Jace'n'FangLover, kk24, Icy  
and Fire.**

**I didn't reply to reviews like I tend to do with this story cause  
PurpleTea88 told me it might be against the rules... Whoopsie! XD I'm just gonna answer a few things right now cause I'm too lazy to PM seperately. =P  
****PurpleTea88****: thanks so much for the review. I swear it's not me messing with the first paragraph! Idk why that happened... No I don't have a beta, I'm just a spelling/grammar freak. XD and I think the word you were looking for was 'deceptively'. XD thank you!  
****Icy and Fire:**** If you don't get the joke, you shouldn't. XD it's pretty weird. And -virtually high fives- sprained ankle buddies!**

**Spacing issues fixed as of 11/21/12**

**So enough of the AN that is still too long. Enjoyzas!**

NPOV

"Come back, Max!" I whined, stamping my foot. Jeez, Max was so annoying! I loved her and all, but still! Ella was much more cooperative than her sister was when it came to my favorite activities.

"Put the makeup down first!" Max insisted, her hand poised on the doorknob. Dang it! She was ready to flee.

"Why?" I waved the mascara around, and Max visibly flinched. "It's just makeup!"

"Which we don't have time to fiddle with right now!" Max retorted. "I want to go see the list already."

My eyes widened. ZOMG, how could I have forgotten? The list should be in all capitals, bolded, underlined, italicized, and with like, forty million exclamation points after it! _**THE LIST **_was my life at the moment. I glanced between Max and the makeup in my hand, mentally debating. Should I beautify Max, or go pursue my beloved _**LIST**_? Decisions, decisions...

"MAX! NUDGE! Hurry up already!" Ella's voice called from downstairs. Max sighed in relief, opening the door and rushing into the hallway.  
"Come on Nudge," Max sang sweetly back at me. "We need to HURRY! No time to smear gunk on my face today!"

I rolled my eyes, stuffing my makeup back in my backpack and following Max out of Ella's room. I had wrangled permission from my parents to stay at the Martinez/Ride household over the weekend. Ella and I had ganged up on Max several times, forcing her into adorable outfits and dolling her up. We had perfected several gorgeous makeup techniques on our unwilling subject, and created many new outfit choices, all of which Max refused to ever wear. I smiled at the memory, adjusting my backpack on my shoulders and running down the stairs. Max and Ella were talking with Dr M in the kitchen, so I skipped in there."I'm ready," I announced, smiling at them. "Good morning, Dr M!"

Dr Martinez smiled at me. "Good morning Nudge. How hungry are you today?"

"Very!" I replied emphatically. Max snorted, bending down to adjust her sneaker. Dr M ignored her older daughter, handing me a smoothie in a plastic cup and a couple pieces of toast. "ZOMG, thank you thank you Dr M!" I squealed, hopping up and down in excitement. I just looved smoothies! They were so cold and yummy and fruity and smoothie-ish! Mmm...

"No problem, Nudge. You were a wonderful guest this weekend," Dr M replied. "I'm glad you could stay with us."

"Me too! Thank you sooooo much for everything!" I was about to continue thanking Dr M for her amazing awesomesaucetasticnosity, but Max had straightened and grabbed my arm. She almost made me spill my smoothie!

"Bye Mom," Max said quickly, beginning to drag me towards the door. Dr M just smiled, apparently used to their routine. Ella followed us outside, two smoothies in her hands. Once the door had closed behind us, Max let go of my wrist and closed her eyes for a moment. "Another Monday morning," she muttered. Ella and I exchanged looks, and I had to supress a giggle. Max was so dramatic sometimes, she could be, like, an actress on Broadway! Yeah! That would be so cool, 'cause then Ella and I could probably go see her perform, and we'd get backstage passes, and then we would get to meet hot actor guys! Like Johnny Depp! I almost fainted at the thought.

While I had been daydreaming about meeting Johnny Depp, Max had accepted the smoothie Ella handed her. As we started off towards Cromwell, Max chugged her whole drink in two gulps. It was pretty impressive, but kinda gross too. "Max!" Ella whined. "Don't do that!" Max grinned, and we continued walking in silence. I didn't even feel compelled to talk as I looked at all the scenery. It was really pretty.

Abruptly, Max clutched her head, doubling over in the middle of the sidewalk. Ella and I stopped, watching her worriedly. "Max? ZOMG MAX! Don't die! Are you okay? If you're okay, say something!" I screamed, grabbing her shoulders. Max continued to hold her head, unresponsive. Suddenly, the door to the house we were standing in front of opened, and Fang walked out. "FANG!" I screeched. "Max is dying!"

Fang blanched, running towards us. He dropped his backpack on the sidewalk and stepped forward, his eyes on Max. Ella and I stepped back, letting him get closer to Max.

"Max?" he whispered, kneeling next to her. Max grunted, still clutching her head. "Max, are you okay?"

Max sank to her knees, falling into Fang's chest as she did so. He looked surprised, but wrapped his arms around her to hold her steady.  
Ella and I exchanged a Look. This was so cute! We had to get Max and Fang together somehow, because this was mind-blowingly adorable right now, even though Max was in pain and possibly breathing her last breath.

After a moment, Max's hands lifted from her head, and her brown eyes opened again. She blinked for a moment, obviously confused. "Fang?" she asked, her voice small.

I had to valiantly fight back a coo.

"Yes, Max?" he replied, not releasing his hold on her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Max assured him. She didn't make a move to get up. Neither did Fang.

Okay, I seriously needed to squeal. This was adorable, and I was sacrificing my health by holding in a squeal the size of Manhattan. I was gonna blow soon.

Suddenly, Max glanced over and saw me and Ells standing to the side, watching. She immediately jerked away from Fang, who quickly let go of her. "Hey Nudge, Ells," Max greeted us uncomfortably. She and Fang stood up, wiping off their jeans from kneeling on the sidewalk.

"ZOMG MAX, WHAT JUST HAPPENED I WAS SO SCARED I THOUGHT YOU WERE DYING!" I screamed, quickly releasing my pent-up squeal into a scream instead. Max flinched, then looked embarrassed.

"Brain-freeze," she explained, smiling ruefully and rubbing her head.

"Talk about anti-climactic," Ella remarked, effectively breaking the short silence that followed Max's statement. Fang snorted and picked up his backpack.

"Drama queen," he muttered, shouldering past Max. She grinned at him, elbowing him back.

"Sorry, okay? I'm sensitive!" Max replied, holding her hands up defensively. Fang rolled his eyes, then started walking away.  
"Hey, where are you going?" Ella called after him. Fang stopped, turned around, and raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's this thing called 'school'," he drawled, a smirk flitting across his lips. Ella facepalmed, and I had to giggle.  
"Oh, right," Ella muttered, hurrying to catch up with Fang.

"Smooth, Ells," Max teased her sister, apparently conpletely over her brain freeze.

"Smooth as sandpaper," I agreed, laughing. Ella flipped her hair, choosing not to reply. Max and I grinned at each other.

Soon, we arrived at Cromwell, and we were actually early, even with having to stop because of Max's brain freeze. Fang beelined for the office, and we followed him like a train of ducklings after their mother. Wow, that's a strange thought. Fang being our mom, and a duck to boot? That's just not right. Max isn't the type to be a fuzzy, adorable duckling, and Ella and I wouldn't do well if Fang was our mother. That'd be just plain weird!

Abruptly, Ella halted, and I crashed into her. "ZOMG, sorry Ells I didn't realize you had stopped sorry!" I apologized quickly. Ella nodded, not even looking at me as her eyes scanned the bulletin board in front of the office. I looked at it too, eagerly searching for _**THE LIST.**_ Where was it? I wasn't sure if I could stand another moment of not knowing if Coach Walker hadn't posted _**THE LIST**_ yet-

"There," Fang said suddenly, his finger poking at one of the sheets pinned to the board. I gasped, then pushed past all three of my friends to read it. I needed to know, now!

**Soccer Team Roster**  
Zephyr Richards

Maximum Ride

Nicholas Rianild

Elizabeth Valencia

Lucas Jamison

Laurie Pilazzi

Ella Martinez

Monique Yolinta

Devon Shay

Sadie Davis

Juliann Solipha

Ford Weston

Rosanna Garcia

Danny Armstrong

Matthew Bowmin

Jack Trey

"ZOMG YES!" I squealed, pumping my fist in the air to celebrate. I made the team! I made the team! Score one for Nudge!

"Lemme see, Nudge!" Ella whined, pushing me out of the way. I danced my victory dance in the middle of the hallway, not caring who saw. I was on the Cromwell soccer team! Yay!

"Yes!" Ella screamed, joining me in the victory dance. Fang raised an eyebrow at us, calmly surveying the roster. When he saw his name, he smiled, nodded, and walked away. No celebration at all.

Party pooper.

Max ignored us completely, stepping forward to get a closer look at the list. "Oh of course, Gasser is heading the list. Me, Fang, Lucas, Ells and Nudge. Sweetness," Max remarked. She turned back to look at us, and facepalmed. "You guys better get to your lockers," she advised us, walking away. "We have four minutes till the bell."

Ella and I halted our victory dance, looking up at the clock mounted above the bulletin board. Crap! I was sooo gonna be late. "Bye Ells!" I sang, running down the hallway. Ella performed a stepover on an imaginary soccer ball, before Croifing it and pretending to dribble down the hallway. I giggled madly, stuck on Cloud 9.

I was on the Cromwell High soccer team, and all was well with the world.

**Review please! I'll put up the next chappie, like, tomorrow or somink, since this is sooooo short. =(**

**~TMI~**


	12. Max II?

**I promised a doublé update, and here it is! I'm only sorry it wasn't sooner. Band and choir concerts were this week, as were playoffs for school soccer, along with normal soccer practice everyday. We played championships today, and lost 3-2. =( Oh well. We dominated.**

**Enjoy!**

**(Oh, and PurpleTea88, is this spacing better? I'm not sure if it'll work…) Fixed as of 11/21/12**

MPOV

I ran into Miss James' class a mere ten seconds before the bell rang. Speed walking as fast as I could, I raced up the aisle and fell into my chair next to Fang just as the bell sounded. Miss James smiled at me from her desk. "Nice save, Max," she commented, marking something on her roll sheet. I grinned back, pushing my hair back behind my ears.

"Thanks, Miss James," I replied somewhat breathlessly. Fang coughed loudly, and I elbowed him in the ribs. He simply smirked back at me. Impudent boy. "I'm so psyched about soccer," I muttered to Fang, using the announcements as cover to whisper to him. Fang nodded, an actual smile gracing his face for a moment. I had to grin back at him. Fang's smile was contagious.

"I can't wait to see the line up Coach will use," he replied in a low voice. I nodded in agreement. I had been wondering that too. Gazzy would probably be either center forward or center halfback, that was obvious. But where would the rest of us be? I didn't know half the people who had made the team, since my friend group at Cromwell consisted largely of the people I had met my first day. Over the two weeks Ella and I had been here, Ella had befriended at least half of the freshman population, whereas I had made about six or seven friends. I was loosely friends with Matt and Lucas, better friends with Max II, JJ, and Terra, and closest with Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, and Fang. Matt, Max II, and Lucas were fun soccer buddies, and Terra and JJ were cool to hang out with. However, Nudge was the sweetest girl I had ever met, Iggy helped me survive through history with his jokes about Ms Hell, and I felt like I really connected kinesthetically with Gazzy. And Fang... Fang was my best friend. In two weeks, he had managed in his quiet, persistent way to get closer to me than any of my friends ever had before. Not even my old best friend from Nevada, Linnie, knew me as well as Fang did now, and I had been friends with Linnie for five years. Fang was Fang.

"Earth to Maximum," Fang intoned, waving a hand in front of my face. "Hello? Anyone in there?" Fang rapped against my head with one hand. I rubbed my head, scowling at him.

"I was thinking. Maybe you should try it sometime," I shot back at him. Fang rolled his eyes.

"Thinking is overrated. I'm a non-conformist," he replied airily, flipping his hair. I snorted in reply.

The day passed by relatively quickly. Science was uneventful, since Mr Lundom had lectured us on frog anatomy for most of the period, while the class simply spaced out. In PE, Mr Tulney had actually specifically congratulated Gazzy, Nudge and I in front of the class for making the school soccer team, which had been cool. Unfortunately though, he then surprised us with fitness testing. Mrs Aivels had us sweating over complex algebraic equations for the entire period during math, and Terra had nearly fainted from boredom. We survived into English though, where Ms Niota had sympathetically assigned quiet reading on the class book for the period. It was nice to just sit there and read, relaxing for awhile. However, that relaxation was ruined the moment I stepped into history class. My morning went from boring calm to interestingly spitfire.

Ten minutes into class, Ms Hell sent Iggy out of the room for impudence. She let him stew in the hallway for half the period before allowing him back in, and sent him out again three minutes later for 'disrupting the peace'. Then, after she allowed him back in for the second time, Iggy set up shop with a paper airplane business.

"Mr Fields! We do not build and or fly paper airplanes during class!" Ms Hell scolded shrilly, crossing her arms.

"But they're important to my learning process!" Iggy protested, lobbing another plane into the air.

"Mr Fields!" Ms Hell shrieked, looking appalled. "This behavior is atrocious!"

"Your face is atrocious," Iggy muttered, sightlessly staring down his last airplane with a mutinous expression on his pale face. I coughed, trying to hide the smile forming on my face.

"You can't even see her face," I reminded him, nudging my elbow into his ribs. A slight, sardonic smile crept onto his face.  
"I still know it's atrocious," he retorted. I snorted in reply.

"What was that, Mr Fields, Ms Ride?" Ms Hell's voice was sharp.

"Nothing," Iggy replied sweetly. I nodded vigorously. Just as Ms Hell was about to turn around and get back to teaching, Iggy lifted his last airplane. I grabbed his arm, but he shook me off, throwing the airplane with pinpoint precision directly at Ms Hell. She turned at the last second, and opened her mouth to scold Iggy again. I closed my eyes and sank down in my chair, unable to watch.

"Mr Fields! This is en-mmph!" Ms Hell's loud, shrill voice was suddenly halted, and a few daring giggles sounded around the room. I opened one cautious eye, only to find Ms Hell yanking a paper airplane out of her mouth. Iggy had somehow managed to fly his creation right between her teeth, literally.

He was gonna get in trooouuubblee.

"MR FIELDS! GO TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE, IMMEDIATELY!" Ms Hell pointed one quivering finger at the door, disregarding the fact Iggy couldn't see it anyway. With a slight smirk on his face, he slowly stood up. "Now," Ms Hell added in a hiss.

Iggy took his time sauntering out of the room, fully aware that all eyes were on him.

Idiotic git. I would have to speak with him later.

Ms Hell continued droning on and on about some war or another, but I didn't pay attention. I was too worried about Iggy. I had only known him for two weeks, true, but I felt like I knew him well enough to know one thing. Iggy wasn't behaving normally. All of his older friends agreed with me. Fang said he had been friends with Iggy since kindergarten, and this mood was foreign to him. It was very puzzling.

Finally, it was lunch time, and I rocketed out of history as fast as I could. I grabbed my lunch from my locker, collected my materials for art class, and beelined for the lunch room. Nudge, Terra, Ella and Fang were already sitting there, the girls gossiping and Fang quietly eating. I slid in between Ells and Fang, elbowing Fang in greeting and smiling at my sister. Fang shouldered me back without looking up from his sandwich, but I detected a slight smile on his face.

"Max, I'm so excited about soccer!" Ella squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat. I nodded, starting to unwrap a granola bar.

"It's gonna be awesome," I agreed.

"And the three R's are heading the list!" Nudge added, her eyes lit up in excitement. "The mighty trio- Richards, Ride, and Rianild!"

Fang raised an eyebrow, and I almost choked on my food. "Nudge?" I managed to cough out.

"Yes?" she asked, smiling brightly.

"Please don't try to make up a stupid nickname for the three of us," I begged, looking her straight in the eye. Nudge's smile only grew.  
"That's a great idea, Max! How about, the Rampant R's? No, no, that's too cheesy. And creepy. Hmm... What about, the Terrific Triad of Teammates? Eww, nevermind. That's just plain barf worthy. What about-"

"Thanks, Ride. You're a genius," Fang muttered, shoving me into Ella. I immediately pushed him back.

"Shut up," I grumbled. "I tried to avoid this."

"Tried, and failed."

"I said to shut up."

"I didn't listen."

"Oh, shut up."

"Now you're repeating yourself, Ride."

"Stop calling me Ride!"

"Will you guys stop flirting for a second?" Ella interrupted, grinning cheekily. Immediately, I stiffened, suddenly unable to look at Fang anymore. Fang just rolled his eyes and fell silent. Ella smiled. "Peace and quiet."

I ignored her.

Abruptly, the doors to the cafeteria flew open, and Iggy marched in with Gazzy, Matt, and Lucas. The former was looking pleased with himself, but the other three did not seem happy.

"What's up?" I asked Gazzy as he sat down across from Fang at the table. Gaz didn't even look up, ferociously tearing the plastic wrap around his sandwich.

"Iggy is an idiot," he muttered. Matt and Lucas nodded simultaneously, both looking peeved.

"Tell me something I don't know," I replied, watching Iggy sit down next to Terra. "What did he do now?"

"Almost got us suspended, that's what," Matt groaned, leaning back from the table. My jaw dropped.

"What? How?" I asked. Lucas muttered something under his breath, but none of the three would clarify. "Iggy needs to see a counselor," I grumbled, tearing a bite out of my sandwich. "He has issues."

"You're right," Fang said suddenly, looking up at me. I raised an eyebrow, startled by his sudden entrance into the conversation.  
"What am I right about now?" I asked.

"Igs seeing a counseler. Maybe he needs to talk to someone," Fang reasoned. Gazzy snorted.

"I can't picture Iggy talking freely to a stranger therapist. You know what he always says," Gazzy reminded him. "'What do you get if you take away the first three letters of 'therapist'?'" he mimicked Iggy in a surprisingly good imitation of his voice.

Matt nearly choked on his sandwich in surprise.

"Dude!" Matt coughed, trying to remove the sandwich from his lungs. "Don't do that! It's majorly creepy."

"What, this?" Gazzy asked in my voice. I gaped at him.

"How did you...?" I trailed off, staring incredulously at Gazzy.

"I'm always right," Gazzy replied, still using my voice. "Because I'm Maximum Ride."

Fang hid a grin behind his hand, and Matt and Lucas burst out laughing. I reached over and batted the side of Gazzy's head with the back of my hand. "Stop that," I ordered, trying not to smile. Gazzy grinned cheekily back at me.

"Okay, fine," he said, switching to Nudge's voice. Nudge's head snapped up as she looked over to see us holding our sides and laughing as Gazzy mimicked her perfectly. "Like, ZOMG that is such a cute skirt! I have to buy it! And, like, fifty million others in different shades of purple!"  
"That was one time!" Nudge argued, grinning.

"Well, whatever then. You win some, you lose some, you go home and eat bacon," Gazzy sighed in Terra's voice. He carried on like this for quite awhile, switching voices until he had mimicked everybody at the table. That boy was gifted.

In the midst of the hilarity, Max II had entered the cafeteria. He sat down quietly at one end of the table, not the barest hint of a smile on his lips. Gazzy walked over to him, grinning broadly. "Hey, why the long face?" Gazzy asked him in Max II's own voice.

Max II didn't even look up.

Gazzy looked worried, and sat down next to him. "Really, what's up?" Gaz asked, using his own voice for the first time in over five minutes. I was frankly surprised he hadn't forgotten how to use it.

Max II shrugged, continuing to eat. The laughter at the table died down as we all looked curiously over at Max II. He seemed really upset. "Max?" Lucas asked quietly. "You okay?"

Max II stood up abruptly, not looking any of us in the eye. "I'm not hungry," he muttered, walking away and leaving the room. We all looked around at each other, thoroughly confused. What was wrong with him?

"I'll go check to see what's wrong," I offered, standing up. Fang quickly rose too, and I gave him a questioning glance.  
"I'll come with," he murmured, tossing the his empty lunch bag in the trash.

"Okay," I agreed slowly, wondering why Fang was suddenly so concerned about Max II. I had gotten the impression Fang didn't really care for him, so this was slightly surprising. "Let's go."

We walked out of the cafeteria I'm silence, glancing around for Max II. He was nowhere to be seen in the hallway. "I'll check the bathroom," Fang murmured, slipping inside the boy's restroom. I waited patiently outside for a moment until he emerged, shaking his head. Without another word, we continued looking for Max II.

Finally, our search ended in the science hallway. Max II was sitting against the wall, his head in his hands and his binder lying in front of him. I silently sat down next to him, and Fang stood in front of us. "Hey," I said softly, breaking the silence. "What's wrong?"

Max II was quiet for a moment, not moving. I was about to think he wasn't going to respond at all when he lifted his head. Max II looked directly in my eyes, and sighed. It was a sad sigh, and I immediately felt depressed as a result. What could he be so upset about?

"I didn't make the team," Max II mumbled, his voice hoarse and weak. I immediately understood, feeling exceedingly stupid. Of course. Max II had specifically told ms he was looking forward to tryouts, and now I had completely forgotten. I had been so excited about Ella and Nudge making the team, and about getting to play with Fang and Gazzy, that I hadn't even noticed the absence of Max II's name from the roster this morning. What a great friend I was.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I know," he replied, sounding as if he was struggling to speak. "Can you just... leave for a minute? I just need a sec."

"Of course," I agreed instantly. "But Fang and I are right here for you."

Max II made a sound that seemed to challenge that statement, but fell silent again. I lifted my hand from his shoulder, quietly standing up and grabbing Fang's wrist. I tugged him down the hallway, leaving Max II huddled by Mr Lundom's classroom. "I feel stupid," I confessed in a hushed voice, letting go of Fang's wrist as we turned a corner. Fang nodded, looking more solemn than usual. "I would die if I didn't make the team- I can't imagine how Max II feels right now."

Fang remained silent.

"Thank you for your wisdom," I told him sarcastically. Fang cracked a small smile at me.

"Art?" he suggested. I nodded. And with that, we continued down the hallway to go to art class. I felt too subdued to play soccer with the rest of the guys like nothing was wrong, while Max II wallowed in sorrow in the science hallway. I didn't blame him about being upset, not at all, but his mood had affected me too. I was just glad I had made the team.

But I couldn't help but get the feeling that there was a conflict rising between Fang and Max II... It was just the way they acted around each other. I glanced at Fang, who was staring stoically straight ahead as we walked. He might seem intimidating to any casual observer, but I had actually witnessed him allowing his little sister to braid his long, dark hair into multiple pigtails. Fang was kind of a softie, once you got past his emotionless exterior. And Max II didn't seem any worse, as far as I could tell. I didn't see why he and Max II clashed.

Boys were so confusing.

**Review please! Oh, and does anyone have suggestions for Nudge to use in her attempt to find a nickname for Richards, Ride, and Rianild? Special dedication to those with good ideas! =D**

**~TMI~**


	13. Emo Iggy Time! Oh goody!

**OMG thirteen chappies already? This is gonna easily pass up Come Back as my most-chapters story. Come Back doesn't even really count, cause it's super short and kinda sucky. XD**

**I hope you enjoy! =D******

**IPOV**  
I plopped down into the chair outside the principal's office with practiced precision. Who knew how many times I had been sent here for my educational mishaps? All I knew was I had the route from each of my classes to this chair memorized completely. I could do it with my eyes closed!

Of course, that's not exactly a huge feat for me...

I felt the satisfied smile on my face melt into a scowl at the reminder of my disability. Way to go, Igs. Remind yourself of the thing you hate most about yourself! Great idea.

"Mr. Fields, Mrs. Nirzoa will see you now," the voice of Ms. Jean, the secretary, informed me. I nodded in reply, and stood up from the chair. As I walked towards the principal's office, I could feel her sad gaze on me. Ms Jean was a friend of my mom's, and I knew that she was upset I got in trouble yet again. I halted abruptly.

"Sorry," I muttered, not looking at her. Then, without another word, I pushed open the door in front of me and headed into the principal's lair.

"Ah, yes. Mr Fields. Please take a seat, there's a chair six steps in front of you." Mrs. Nirzoa's voice wafted towards me from the place I knew her chair was placed. I nodded curtly, and sat down in the chair she directed. I had known it was there, I complained internally. She doesn't have to treat me like a cripple.

There was a slight shifting of clothing, and I knew that the principal was sitting up in her chair. "So, Mr. Fields, what have you done to upset Ms Helms so much?" Mrs. Nirzoa's voice was mild, but there was a hint of a reproving tone in it.

"I allowed her to taste the quality of my paper airplane," I replied, sitting back comfortably in my chair.

There was a slight silence. "Iggy," Mrs. Nirzoa began gently. I cringed a bit. None of the teachers called me Iggy except for Mrs. Niota. All the others called me Mr. Fields or Jonathan, except for Mr. Tulney, who just called me Fields. "How are you feeling lately?" Mrs. Nirzoa finished, sounding worried.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Umm, I feel fine," I told her, purposely making my voice sound skeptical and confused. "Why do you ask?"

There was more shifting of clothing. "Do you need to talk to someone?"

I sat up in my chair. "What are you talking about?" This conversation was getting suspicious...  
"I have noticed that for the past week or so you've been gracing me with your presence more often than ever," Mrs. Nirzoa observed. I could just imagine her steepling her fingers on her desk like a stereotypical principal.

"And you love me for it," I replied sweetly, smiling winningly. Mrs. Nirzoa laughed softly, but continued nonetheless. Damn it. I was hoping I would distract her...

"And my observations have led me to think that you could use some help," Mrs. Nirzoa finished firmly. I remained silent, hoping she was joking. "Iggy, you could always talk to Mr. Reynolds," the principal suggested softly, naming the school guidance counseler. My fists clenched.

"I don't need help," I stated quietly, gritting my teeth. "Not from anyone."

"Iggy, I really think you should at least consider it," Mrs. Nirzoa insisted. She sounded concerned, but I brushed it off. I didn't need her concern. I wasn't some weakling.

"I don't need help, and I don't need to consider anything," I repeated, clenching my fists tighter.

"This is for your own good." Mrs. Nirzoa seemed in earnest. I simply shook my head.

"No," I replied bluntly. I started to get up out of the chair.

"Mr Fields, sit down now," Mrs. Nirzoa sounded deadly serious. We need to talk this ou-"

"No, we don't," I interrupted, glaring at the space I imagined the principal to be. "I'm fine. Just 'cause I'm blind doesn't mean I'm insane too."

"I never said you were insane, Iggy."

"Again with the 'Iggy'," I snapped before I could check myself. "Am I Mr. Fields to you? or Iggy? Because believe me, those are two very different people," I muttered. "I'm leaving." I started for the door, ready to just get out of the whole freaking school, when a hand grabbed my wrist.

"No you aren't," Mrs. Nirzoa told me evenly. "We're going to visit Mr. Reynolds."

"I'm not telling that shrink anything," I growled, trying to yank my wrist away.

"Then you aren't going to be a sophomore next year. I'll hold you back in freshman year if your behavior is unsatisfactory," Mrs. Nirzoa threatened quietly, her voice somewhat sad, but still firmly decisive.

"You wouldn't do that," I whispered, halting in my tracks. That would be awful- all of my friends moving up and leaving me behind in freshman year like an idiot.

"I can, and I will," Mrs. Nirzoa assured me. "Come, Iggy. Mr. Reynolds is waiting."

"Mmph," I grunted, thoroughly unhappy with this situation. I shoved the hand Mrs. Nirzoa wasn't holding hostage deep into my jacket pocket, clenching my fingers around the fabric.

There was no way I was spilling my heart out to a freaking THErapist.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I was spilling my heart out to a freaking therapist.

How did this even happen? Mrs. Nirzoa had herded me down the hall into another room I had never had the misfortune to be in before. It sounded as if it was small, and I eventually had it mentally mapped out after I banged my knees against several chairs and cabinets.

And people wondered why I was so angsty.

"Ah, Mr. Fields. Sit here please." A male voice floated towards me from about five feet away. I yanked free of Mrs. Nirzoa's grasp and maneuvered confidently into a chair next to the voice. Take that, bloody principal. "Joan, I believe it would be best if I spoke with Mr. Fields in private."

"Of course, Richard," Mrs. Nirzoa replied immediately. Eww, did she have a thing for this school psychatrist? I did not need more scarring, thank you very much. Mercifully, Mrs. Nirzoa left quickly, leaving me alone with a THErapist. Oh, wait a minute. She left me alone with a THErapist! Lord have mercy on my poor, innocent soul.

The door clicked shut behind Mrs. Nirzoa, and there was a slight pause. Mr. Reynolds shuffled some papers on his desk, and I prepared myself for an onslaught of stupid questions. My mom had sent me to psychiatrists before, and each experience had not been pleasant in the least. You had to wonder how some of them even got through college.

"I'm glad she's gone," Mr. Reynolds said suddenly, sighing in relief. His chair creaked loudly, and I smirked.

"Me too, Mr. Reynolds," I agreed slowly. Maybe this guy wouldn't be horrible after all...

"Hey, would you mind if I called you Iggy? I think it's beneficial to your mental health," Mr. Reynolds drawled. I nodded.

"That would be fine, I guess. My mental health is far past saving though. Me and Fang spied on the teacher's lounge in seventh grade," I snickered, recalling the fond days of yore. Mr .Reynolds coughed, but it sounded suspiciously like he was hiding a laugh.

"Oh yes, that must have been very scarring. And since I'm calling you Iggy, you can call me Richard. It's only fair," he reasoned.

"Can I call you Richie?" I asked hopefully.

"Not under any circumstances," Richie, as he will now be known, replied promptly.

"Okay, Richie! What am I here for? Are you gonna delve into my mind or some crap like that?" I wondered aloud.

"Not anything that fancy," he denied, sounding shocked. "I'm just gonna chat with you and eat these donuts." There was a crinkle of plastic from Richie's direction, followed by an emphatic chewing sound. "Mmm, powdered," Richie murmured, sounding euphoric.

"Can I have a donut?" I asked.

"If you write me two pages on how you feel about your blindness, I'll give you the rest of the box," Richie offered. I narrowed my eyes at him, just for show.

"How many are left?" I demanded. I was not about to get ripped off. Donuts are serious business, especially powdered donuts.

"Eight."

"I'll write one page," I bargained.

"Two."

"Page and a half."

"Page and three-quarters."

"Fine. Give me a donut right now for writing inspiration," I grumbled, holding my hand out. Richie plopped a donut into my outstretched palm, the powder slipping between my fingers. I shoved it whole into my mouth, chewing slowly so I wouldn't choke. Mmm… Powdered donuts equals heaven.

While I was licking my fingers clean, Richie had apparently pulled out his laptop, because he set one down on my lap. "I trust you know how to type?" he asked, handing me a handwipe. I nodded, cleaning my fingers off quickly and placing them on the keyboard.

"Is it already on Word?" I asked, flexing my fingers.

"Yes. Everything is set. Tell me if you need something, I'll be right here." Richie's chair creaked again, and the chewing sounds resumed. I sat back in my chair, thinking about the situation. I had just been bribed with donuts to tell a therapist about what was bugging me. How low could I sink?

Well, they were freaking good donuts. And it sure beat history with Ms. Hell.

Oh crap, Max! She was gonna be pissed that I had gotten in trouble again. I swear, that girl was worse than Nudge, Gazzy, and Fang combined when it came to worrying about me. I had only known her for about two weeks, yet I felt like she was my mother. Max had a way of wedging herself into your life. I already couldn't imagine Cromwell without her.

Or Ella...

Undo thoughts! Undo thoughts! I didn't think that thought about Ella _at all_…

Hehe… Yeah… right…

"Are you gonna sit there and let your life story type itself, or are those fingers gonna fly? Cause I'm perfectly okay with eating the rest of these donuts by myself," Richie threatened. I blanched, and started my fingers on the keyboard. Richie's chair creaked. "That's better," he mumbled. I hid a smirk. As far as therapists went, Richie was a pretty cool guy.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Done," I yawned, lifting my fingers from the keys. I smirked as I mentally reviewed the essay. Sure, I went a little overboard on my emo emotions, but it was dang satisfying. And the last line gave me a sense of triumph. I took the laptop from my lap and held it up for Richie to take. He lifted it from my grasp, and handed me a box in return. I tore off the lid and dug my hand in to retrieve a donut. Mmm... Sure, I was pathetic for accepting powdered donuts as a bribe, but these were damn good donuts!

"I like this, Iggy," Richie murmured after awhile, breaking me out of my donut-induced reverie. "Its very fresh, very honest. Can I enter it in a writing competition?"

"Isn't that against the law or something?" I asked plaintively, still munching on my delicious donuts. "Is there something written somewhere that says you can't divulge private information of your clients in writing contests?"

"So now you're my client?" Richie asked, laughing.

I nodded. "Well, of course! Except instead of me paying you with money, you pay me with donuts!"

"I would prefer me getting money," Richie grumbled. I shook my head, taking another bite of my donut. "So we have five minutes left before lunch. What do you want to talk about?"

"Not my blindness, please. I just wrote a page and three quarters of emo sob story about it," I replied. "I'm getting sick of the subject, frankly."

"That's fine. How about girls? Any hot girls in freshman year?" Richie asked.

"I'm sure there are, but Fang refuses to describe them to me!" I sighed, running my hands through my hair. "He's such an annoying best friend."

"A guy who won't describe girls for his blind bestie? How tragic," Richie sympathized. I nodded mournfully.

"It's horrible," I agreed.

"What about those two new girls, Maximum and Ella? I've already had Ells in here for cussing out some girl because of a fight about good ol' JB." I smiled at the thought.

"JB? You mean Justin Bieber?" I clarified.

"The one and only," Richie confirmed. "Ella has some unsolved anger issues concerning him. I'd tell you, but I'm not particularly fond of reliving our conversation."

"I bet. Ella has a very colorful vocabulary," I muttered. Ella had hung out with me a few times in the past two weeks, and she was really cool. I had noticed, though, that she had the language of a sailor at her disposal, and used it freely. Whether she had dropped her ice cream or stubbed her toe, Ella Martinez had a word for every occasion. Unfortunately.

"She's a pretty funny girl," Richie remarked casually. "Easy on the eyes, too, if you don't mind my saying."

Some people may think it was creepy that I was discussing freshman girls with this school counseler, but I was not among their ranks. Girls were girls, and Richie comprehended this. Finally! Someone who understood me.

"Will you tell me what she looks like?" I implored. "Fang won't tell me, and I'm afraid to ask Gazzy in case he tells Fang."

"Sure," Richie agreed, laughing at my reasoning. "Ella has longish, wavy brown hair, and pretty tan skin. Her eyes are brown, and she's kinda short. She usually wears skinny jeans and fashionable stuff to school, and I noticed that she always wears a bracelet that says NEVER SAY NEVER I LOVE YOU JB."

"Worshipful fan girl," I muttered, smiling slightly. "Thanks, Richie. That's really helpful."

"Don't call me Richie," he said immediately.

"But I like Richie," I protested, smirking. "It makes you sound Italian!"

"Iggy, that doesn't even make sense. At all."

I shrugged. "You can't blame me for trying," I offered. Suddenly, the bell rang for lunch, and I stood up. "Well, thanks for the donuts, Richie. Our little chat was very enlightening."

"Glad to help, Iggy. I'll see you tomorrow at this time again. Mrs. Nirzoa orders it," Richie replied. I groaned dramatically, and Richie lobbed something at me. It felt like a pen when it hit my ear, but maybe that was just me. I yelped in pain, but Richie ignored me. "Act like that and I won't bring you donuts," Richie threatened ominously. "Now shoo! I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye," I replied, leaving the room. I closed the door behind me and began to feel my way down the unfamiliar hallway. Once I made my way to the main hall, I relaxed and began to walk normally. This was mapped territory. I could handle myself here.

"IGGY!" a girl shrieked. I smiled as I recognized the voice, and braced myself as the owner barreled into me in a huge, domineering hug. I staggered back a step from the force, but held my ground sufficiently.

"Hey Ells," I greeted her, hugging her back. "'Sup?"

She giggled in reply, slowly unwrapping her arms from around me. I already missed her touch.

Aww, crap. I hoped I wasn't getting lovesick. That would be a first, since girls were never serious for me. Why should I be worried at all? I'm Iggy Fields. I can handle myself around the opposite gender perfectly well.

"Lunch is 'sup'! Let's go!" Ella grabbed my arm and started pulling me down the hallway, when a stern voice called me back.

"Mr. Fields! My office, please," Mrs. Nirzoa demanded, her voice icy. Ella released my arm quickly, stepping away from me. I rolled my eyes at her, and walked towards the sound of the principal's voice.

"Yeah Mrs. N?" I drawled, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my sweatshirt. "Did you miss me already?"

"We have more things to discuss," Mrs. Nirzoa hedged stiffly, setting off quickly down the hall. I followed her to her office, where I could sense other people inside.

"Who else joined the party?" I remarked casually, leaning against the wall. I didn't want to accidently sit on someone.

"Mr. Richards, Mr. Bowmin, and Mr. Jamison are present," Mrs. Nirzoa informed me. It sounded like she was shuffling files around on her desk, which was never a good sign.

So Gazzy, Matt, and Lucas were here. I wondered what we had done to be stuck in this office again. Gazzy and I were prank partners in crime, but we hadn't pulled off anything too spectacular lately. Why Matt and Lucas were in here was a mystery to me. They usually toed the line when it came to school rules.

"So why are we here?" I pried again. Someone kicked me, and I stifled a yelp.

"Shut it, Igs," Gazzy muttered. I guessed that he was the owner of the foot that had kicked me.

"You boys have been suspected of vandalizing school property," Mrs. Nirzoa accused, her voice deadly. "What do you have to say on the subject?"

Lucas sputtered for words, momentarily unable to speak, and Lucas and Gazzy were silent. I simply gawked in Mrs. Nirzoa's direction. "You think we vandalized school property?" I clarified.

"Yes. There is sufficient evidence that four boys did the work, and you and Mr. Richards don't exactly have a clean record."

"But what about Matt and Lucas? They have clean records!" Gazzy protested. Mrs. Nirzoa tapped her nails against her desk.

"I know," she replied wearily. "In fact, they have two of the most examplary records in the freshman year. But the initials MB and LJ were also uncovered in graffiti, and as Mr. Bowmin and Mr. Jamison are your friends, we assumed it could be them, however unlikely it might seem."

"Mrs. Nirzoa, I swear on my life that Matt and I were not involved in vandalism," Lucas told her seriously, sounding a tiny bit nervous. "My mom would kill me if I even tried to think about that."

"I am hoping evidence will be found against you two as culprits," Mrs. Nirzoa admitted secretively. Her voice hardened though, as she continued. "However, it looks as if Mr. Richards and Mr. Fields are already condemned."

"Wait, when was the vandalism even committed? What was the vandalism, even?" I asked. I needed to know these things. Blind guys get out of the loop easily.

"If you are the culprit, you are a very good actor, Mr. Fields," Mrs. Nirzoa commented. "And the vandalism and theft was committed in the English as a Second Language classroom. Several windows were broken, and five laptops used for video viewing were stolen."

"When did this happen? I didn't hear a thing about it," Gazzy insisted, sounding confused. I nodded in agreement. I was completely in the dark here.

"The crime occured last Friday, in the middle of the night," Mrs Nirzoa supplied.

"Oh, wait! I have an alibi!" Lucas realized, smiling triumphantly as he waved his hand to get Mrs. Nirzoa's attention.

"Alibi?" I snickered. Someone, I was assuming it was Gazzy, had the gall to kick me again. "Ow!" I whined, reaching down to clutch my shin.

"That is enough, Mr. Fields!" Mrs. Nirzoa snapped at me. "Carry on, Mr Jamison. What is your alibi?"

"Last Friday I was sleeping over at my cousin Jake's house, and Jake lives, like, two hours away from here," Lucas declared. "There's no way I could've done it without my aunt and uncle noticing."

"Very well then." Mrs. Nirzoa sounded somewhat relieved. "Then it must have been someone else."

"Hold on," Matt said suddenly, a wave of relief rushing into his voice. "I have an alibi too."

"Yes?" Mrs Nirzoa prompted, sounding hopeful. Matt and Lucas were more of the model student type, and it was obvious she didn't want them to be the criminals."

"Last Friday I was already in Los Angeles for a soccer tournament. My parents and I drove down right after school tryouts. I was there all weekend," Matt explained. "So I couldn't have gotten here and vandalized on Friday night. I was over six hours away from here, asleep in a Marriot hotel room."

"I see," Mrs. Nirzoa murmured, shuffling more files. "So you two are off the hook. But Mr Richards and Mr. Fields, I'm still apprehensive about you two."

"But Mrs. Nirzoa!" Gazzy protested. "We do jokes out in the open, where people can enjoy them. Iggy and I wouldn't do the underhanded kind of mischief."

"He's right," I agreed. "It's not half as fun. Girls aren't impressed by vandalism."

"Mr. Fields, that last comment was unnecessary." Mrs. Nirzoa'a voice was dry. "And however unlikely it may seem, it's still a possibility."

"Mrs N, if we did happen to be the culprits, what would happen?" I asked slowly. Yet another kick came in contact with my shin, but I didn't even flinch this time. Sadly, I was growing used to it.

"Then you would confess at once," Mrs Nirzoa replied sharply. "And you would be suspended."

"That's all? Well, I confess. We did it," I said airily, putting my hands up in front of me. "Lock me up, boss."

Three soccer players immediately booted me in the shins, two to my left and one to my right. I grunted on impact, but made no visible acknowledgement of the pain blossoming in my legs. Apparently my being blind wasn't good enough for my friends. They wanted me to be lame in both legs also. "Mr. Fields, this is serious. Do you honestly confess?" Mrs. Nirzoa asked solemnly.

"Sure," I replied agreeably. "If it gets me out of those therapy sessions."

"Excuse our dear friend, Mrs. Nirzoa," Lucas hastened to say, no doubt shooting me a death glare. "He's feeling off, has been for awhile, actually, and doesn't realize the consequences of what he's saying. As you know, Matt and I are definitely not guilty, and I'm pretty sure Gazzy and Iggy are also innocent. Iggy is just being silly. Right, Igs?" he confirmed. I nodded sullenly.

"Yeah, fine. Can't a guy have a little fun around here?" I grumbled, kicking my toe into the carpet.

There was a slight silence, and I could feel Mrs. Nirzoa's glare on me as she scrutinized her victims- err, beloved students. "Fine, I believe you. Mr. Jamison, that was an excellent speech. Mr. Fields, watch your mouth in the future. Now hurry along to your lunch, boys, and if you hear anything about the vandalism and theft, do not hesitate to inform the office. That is all."

"Thank you, Mrs. Nirzoa," Gazzy replied. He grabbed my arm and pulled me roughly from the office, Matt and Lucas following after us. "What was that?" Gazzy hissed at me, hurrying down the hallway. "Were you trying to get us suspended, Igs?"

I shrugged. "There's nothing great about this school, anyway," I reasoned.

"What about the soccer team?" Lucas reminded me harshly, sounding upset. "If we get suspended, we're kicked off the team, genius."

Oops. I had forgotten about that. No wonder they were being so sensitive about the whole affair. "Look, I'm sorry, but nothing happened! It's all cool," I insisted. Gazzy let go of my arm, and I could practically sense the angry vibes radiating off of him.

"You need to get your act together, Igs. What's up with you recently?" Gazzy demanded.

I didn't reply. Instead, I simply plastered a fake smile on my face and continued walking. The other guys didn't speak again until we hit the cafeteria, where they began mumbling among themselves again. I ignored their chatter, and navigated my way to the lunch table. I sat down at the end of the bench, sensing someone next to me. Who was it?

"Hi Iggy!" Ella chirped, nudging me gently with her elbow. "What'd you do to annoy the principal?"

"It's a long story," I replied honestly, feeling around in my lunch bag. My hand closed around a plastic bag full of thin, square things. I opened the bag and felt the texture between my fingers, then popped one in my mouth.

Just as quickly, I spat it out into my palm. I scowled at the slightly soggy cracker, crushing it in my hand before dropping it into the trash can behind me. Of course my mom had packed me those today. Ugh.

Wheat thins.

3POV  
Richard Reynolds leaned back in his chair, studying the print out from his laptop. It was a harmless page and three quarters, black on white, neatly typed, with absolutely no grammar or spelling mistakes. Iggy Fields was truly amazing to handle his loss of sight so well. To the casual observer, this paper could have been typed by a perfectly normal student with twenty-twenty vision and a knack for essay writing. Instead, mischievous, impudent, blind Iggy Fields had written this paper. It was remarkable. Richard studied it again, mentally comparing the heart-tugging essay to his chat with the author. It didn't line up. How could the boy who had written this be so casual and playful? It was obvious he had some major inner turmoil, but it didn't show at all on the outside. For the fifth time, Richard reread Iggy's essay.

_ People didn't understand how insanely difficult it was for me just to live after I lost my eyesight. Sure, I was physically fully capable of living normally with my new blindness. I was more capable than some seeing people. In fact, I dealt oddly well with my loss of sight. It was like I had never needed my sight anyway. It had just been a simple convenience, a tool I had borrowed from someone else. And when the tool was taken back, I was devastated, but still perfectly capable. My doctor was amazed._

_But sheer capability wasn't the only factor. I would never see my parents again. I would never be able to play video games unassisted. I would never be able to read. I would never play soccer, or basketball, or swim, or even watch the sunset. And I would never see my best friend's face again. Ever._

_As anybody I knew could have informed anyone, I hadn't always been blind. Up until only three years ago, I could see perfectly well. Then, there had been The Accident. My mind had shut the horrible events out of my conscious thought, and now I couldn't even remember what had happened. Nobody else knew, so the cause of my own blindness was a mystery to me.. All I could recall was going to the local park with Fang, where we had commenced a serious game of hide and go seek. Fang had been It, and I was searching for a hiding place in the woods._

_That was when it happened, I was sure of it._

_Two strange men had appeared, and grabbed me. I struggled, but a single thirteen year old boy had no chance against those guys. After that all I could remember was paralyzing fear, and blinding pain._

_A sardonic smile has just graced my face at the thought. How ironic. My only memory of the event that caused my blindness could only be described as a blinding pain. But, I digress._

_Fang had eventually found us struggling, and somehow managed to fight those men off by himself. At the time, Fang had only been fourteen, but he was tall, fast, and strong for a fourteen-year-old. The men had managed to slash him with their knives twice, but Fang still drove them off. Then, he had somehow found the strength to half-carry me to help, even though he was quickly losing blood and I couldn't open my eyes at all. Even to this day I didn't know how he had done it. Fang was truly amazing sometimes._

_Before The Accident, Fang had smiled a lot. He talked to me constantly, and laughed all the time. When he found out that I was permanently blind, something changed. My friends told me he didn't smile as often, and I knew he didn't talk half as much as he used to. Even laughing became a rarity. I missed the old Fang, and that was one of the main reasons that I hated my blindness. It took a part of my best friend away from me, and I didn't know if I would ever get it back again._

_I wasn't the only one who was hurt by those men. Fang had been scarred too, literally and figuratively. He had the marks on his stomach to prove it._

_I guessed that the reason I had been so worked up in the past week was... Max hadn't known I was blind, she hadn't figured it out for a few days. It hadn't even occurred to her at all until I finally spilled. If it was really that unnoticeable that I was blind, then I must be doing pretty well. I just didn't understand why Fang made me confess the truth. It wasn't as if it would hurt Max to think I was a normal kid. So why? Why did Fang make me confess my disability? I didn't know. And that was another reason to hate my being blind. I couldn't even look at him and figure out his thoughts, like I used to do constantly._

_If I'm surly about being blind sometimes, I have a good reason. I haven't only lost my sight and some of my dignity, I've lost part of my best friend. And if I do say so myself, I do a pretty good job of being normal most of the time. My friends forget I'm blind sometimes. I do a great job of being normal, in fact._

___ So stick that in your juice box and suck on it.__  
_  
Richard lay the papers down on his desk and leaned back in his chair, speculating over the interesting essay he had just read. That final line brought a smile to his lips after such a heart wrenching story. It also reminded him who the author of the essay was. Iggy was a good kid. He deserved his moping time. And Richard would do everything he could to help him through it.

That is, if Iggy would let him give his help.

Richard sighed in frustration. How would he get Iggy to agree to talk his problems out seriously? Somehow, he couldn't picture the goofball having a heart-to-heart with him. Then Richard remembered the hope he had, the thing he was sure would make Iggy open up to him.

There was always the bribe of powdered donuts.

**Edited as of 2/10/12**

**XD I made this a longer chappie, to make up for the slightly suckish ****o****nes I've been churning out. I hope you enjoyed! Review and tell me how much you love Iggy's inner turmoil! You know you do. =P******

**~TMI~**


	14. Are you okay with that?

**WHEW! This is my most-reviewed story, with **_**200**_** reviews for 13 chapters. That is amazing! I love you all!  
-squeals like Nudge-  
Nudge: -squeals like TMI-  
lol. Anyway, keep up the good work, reviewers! I love you all!  
Dedicated to: Jace'n'FangLover, PurpleTea88, and Lilac Rose6 with Iggy!  
Gazzy: HI IGGY!  
And I know people liked Iggy's POV, but it's more difficult to write, and something interesting is gonna happen that Igs doesn't know about...**

**Spacing fixed as of 11/21/12**

MPOV

"Maximum Riesra Ride!" Mom up the stairs. I jumped off my bed and ran to the doorway in alarm.

"What, Mom?" I called back.

"Phone for you."

"Oh. Thanks." I trotted down the staircase, wondering who my caller was. Maybe it was Nudge, who loved to call me and babble over the phone. I winced at the thought; I had miles of English essay to write, and hadn't even started my algebra or history yet. Homework would take forever if Nudge wanted to chat. I took the phone from my mom, flashing her a smile before heading back up the stairs. "Hello?" I asked politely into the receiver.

An eager voice quickly replied. "Max I! What's up?"

"Max II?" I guessed tentatively. I couldn't really recognize his voice over the phone very well. His voice was neutral, the kind that blended in with hundreds of other voices.

"Ding ding ding! And the lucky winner is Maximum Ride!" Max II joked. I laughed awkwardly, not really sure why he was calling.

"Where did you get my number?" I asked, honestly wondering. I hadn't given him my home phone, and we obviously weren't in the school directory.

"Nudge gave it to me," he answered, sounding slightly nervous. "Was that okay with you?"

"Oh, sure, it's fine," I assured him quickly. "I was just confused."

"Oh. Okay."

We were silent for a moment, neither of us knowing quite what to say. Finally, I glanced back over at my half-written English paper. I really needed to get back to that soon. "So, why'd you call me?" I asked bluntly. "Did you need help on algebra homework or something?" Max II was in my algebra class, and we had had a tricky lesson today. "If you did," I continued. "You should call someone else. I barely understood the words coming out of Ms Aivels' mouth."

"No no, I didn't need math help," Max II assured me.

"History? Science? English?" I guessed.

"No, I didn't want to ask about any kind of homework," Max II replied, sounding more nervous than ever. I walked back into my room, wondering what Max II could possibly need that didn't concern homework.

"Well?" I prompted. Max II had been silent for awhile now, and I really needed to finish that English paper.

"Will you go to the dance with me next Friday?" he asked nervously, saying the words so quickly that I barely caught them. But I heard them well enough.

I flopped back onto my bed in shock. "Are you asking me out?" I clarified, too surprised to be anything but my normal, blunt self. _Are you asking me out __over the phone__,_ I added mentally.

"Umm, yeah?" Max II said hopefully, sounding like he was asking a question. I stared at the ceiling for a moment. This had me completely astonished. No, astonished wasn't a strong enough word.

I was freaking _flabbergasted._

"Max? You don't have to if you don't want to," he rushed to say. "I was just wondering-"

"No, that's okay," I interrupted. "I was just..."

"Surprised?" Max II supplied.

No,_ flabbergasted_, I corrected mentally. Talk about dropping a bombshell.

"So what's your answer?" Max II asked tentatively.

"Sure," I replied. I paused, momentarily shocked by my own answer. Did I want to go to a dance with Max II? Why not? He was perfectly nice, and kind of cute. It wasn't like anyone else would ask me out. "Sure," I repeated. "That would be fun."

"Great!" Max II replied happily, sounding enthusiastic. "So, I'll get tickets for us next week!"

"Okay," I agreed, my stomach feeling weird. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you! Bye, Max I."

"Bye."

The phone clicked, and I dropped it onto the bed next to my head. My stomach felt odd, and not in a particularly nice way, either. It was more of a... flabbergasted way. Yeah, that's it. I was completely and utterly flabbergasted.

Suddenly, the phone rang again, this time trilling directly in my ear. I sat bolt upright on my bed, thoroughly alarmed by the abrupt ringing. Breathing a little harder than normally, I picked it up and

pressed the talk button. "Hello?" I managed to say, not liking the breathy, weak way my voice sounded.

"MAX!" Nudge shrieked back at me. "ZOMG DID MAX ASK YOU OUT?"

"Yes, he did," I muttered, rubbing my ear. I held the phone about an inch away from my head, but could still hear Nudge loud and clear. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"DID YOU SAY YES?"

"Yeah," I murmured, falling back down on my bed. I buried my nose into my pillow as Nudge squealed into the phone.

"ZOMG THAT'S SO CUTE IT'S LIKE MAX AND MAX! YAY!" While Nudge was making wedding plans, I was starting to rethink this. Max II was nice, sure, but did I really want to go on a date with him? To a school dance? In my experience, people didn't dance at school dances once they got past seventh grade. They did something else that wasn't appropriate for Maria to hear. And I liked Max II, but not that much. He was simply a friend. While I was having second thoughts on the whole shindig, Nudge was still babbling happily into the phone. "-and then we can paint our nails, maybe like pink or something? Pink is so your color, Max, you should wear it sometimes! And I have this adorable skirt that would be killer on you, 'cause you have such long legs, and-"

"Wait a sec," I cut in, alarmed at this turn of the conversation. "I never said you could do squat to me or my wardrobe, Nudge."

"But Maaaaax," she whined. "You look so good in my type of clothes! And knowing you, you'd probably come to the dance in soccer shorts and a t-shirt!"

"What's wrong with that?" I asked, just to annoy her. Even I knew more fashion than to show up like that, geez.

Nudge groaned in frustration. "See what I mean?"

"No, actually," I admitted. "But I do know that you're not touching me or my clothes. End of discussion."

"Maaaaaax..."

"No."

"But-"

"No, Nudge."

There was a slight pause in the conversation, followed by a sigh. "Fine," Nudge groaned finally. "I won't bother you about it."

"Thank you. And Nudge, I have a question," I replied slowly. I wasn't exactly sure how to phrase this without sounding like a hypocrite.

"Shoot," she answered cheerfully.

"Umm... Why are you so excited about Max II asking me to the dance? I thought you were convinced that Fang is my soulmate," I blurted out quickly. Even though Nudge was far away, and I was safe in my room, I felt another treacherous blush rear its ugly head on my cheeks. Ugh! I never blushed, ever, so why was I blushing so much now? Maybe it had something to do with the difference between Nevadan and Californian air? Yeah, that had to be it.

Nudge was silent for a moment, and I tried to wait patiently for her response. "Well," she began slowly, sounding slightly subdued. "I figure that you're never actually going to get together with Fang, and Max is a good guy, and I want you to be happy, and you'd be cute together, and-"

"Okay Nudge, that's enough of an explanation," I assured her quickly, cutting her off before she could continue her rant about me and Max II.

"Do you like Fang though? Is that why you asked?" Nudge still sounded hopeful.

"Nudge, if I liked Fang, why would I accept Max's offer to the dance?" I reasoned. Nudge was silent, and I knew she had noticed I hadn't blatantly said I didn't like Fang. I didn't know why I hadn't. I didn't like Fang, so why couldn't I say it?

"Okay, Max. I guess I'll see you tomorrow! I can't wait till the dance!" Nudge squealed, full of bounce again.

"Yeah, can't wait," I agreed softly, staring up at my ceiling. "Just can't wait."

**=D =D =D =D =D =D =D =D =D**

I successfully avoided Max II all morning before school on Monday, the day after he asked me to the dance. I evaded his attempts to talk to me with the skill of a moody Fang Rianild, which is very skillfully indeed. Finally, I made my way to homeroom and plopped in my chair with a sigh.  
It was awkward, okay? I didn't really know how to act around Max II anymore. The last time I dated a guy was in Nevada, and the guy was Sam. Sam was easy to talk to, he made you feel special just by looking at you. I used to think that I might have loved him at one point. Then, Bridgit had come to our school.

She was the flashy kind of pretty, with big eyes and long hair. She always had fashionable clothing, expensive shoes, and loads of makeup, automatically pegging her as a popular girl that all the guys wanted to date. The real kicker was the powder blue, bejeweled cell phone glued to her fingers at all times. Bridgit really irked me from when she first arrived, especially with the way she looked at Sam. He was my boyfriend, right? That should have been enough for her to back off of him.

But no. I had had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, an empty classroom after school. All I had needed was my stupid English book, and I had left it in the classroom. When I came to get it, though, I was frozen in the doorway, confronted by the worst scene possible playing out in front of me. Bridgit was literally pressed against Sam from chest down, and it was obvious Sam wasn't protesting. I watched, paralyzed, as Bridgit leaned up and planted her glossy pink lips on Sam's own lips. Sam readily opened his mouth to her, and they went full-frontal, no holding back. Her hands went up his shirt and in his hair, and Sam's were literally down the back of her skirt.

I hadn't been able to move at all. Sam had never kissed me like the way he was kissing Bridgit. The first emotion I actually felt was jealousy, until I realized how stupid that was. This jerk was completely cheating on me, and I was standing here being jealous and pathetic? Nuh uh.  
I strode into the room, anger fizzing through my veins. The two gits were too busy feeling each other up to notice my presence. When I realized that, I scowled and grabbed his shoulders, spinning him around to face me instead of Bridgit. "Sam Vincent Lane, how dare you!" I hissed, drawing my hand back off his shoulder and slapping him across the face. Sam recoiled, and Bridgit shrieked. "And you!" I whirled on Bridgit, who cowered back under my glare. Baby. "Don't play with other people's toys," I added, slapping her too for good measure. She raised her hand to her cheek, and I realized she had still been clutching her stupid cell phone while she made out with my boyfriend. That just infuriated me more. I stood there, glaring at them, unable to say a word through my anger.

Finally, Sam tried to pacify me. "Maxi, we were just-"

"Don't you 'Maxi' me!" I snapped at him. "And what were you doing? Hmm? Mapping out Bridgit's butt for future reference?"  
Sam blushed at my accusation, but Bridgit smirked. I rounded on her again. "What?" Bridgit asked, putting her hands on her hips. "It's a free country. Sam isn't your property."

"Bridgit," Sam muttered warningly.

"No, Sam. I want to see what her problem is," Bridgit replied silkily, her eyes on me. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"My problem is you," I said coolly. "But you know what? Take him. I don't care." I glared at Sam. "You obviously like her more than you like me, so go ahead and kiss her again."

"Max-"

"We're done Sam," I cut in coldly. "Good bye." I whirled around, and spotted my English book lying on my desk. I stalked over, grabbed the book, and left the room without a backward glance at the two people who had ruined my life as I knew it. I broke into a run when I hit the hallway, gripping the book in my hands so hard that my knuckles turned white.

I ran out of the school like that, oblivious to everything but the anger and injustice I was feeling. My feet pounded the pavement as I ran on the streets, dodging blindly around the pedestrians passing by me. Bluntly disregarding the bus stop I usually took, I ran past it and turned left. My legs carried me on the path they remembered, the trail the cross country team ran. I gained speed as I passed through the park, flying past the trees on either side of me.

Suddenly, my foot caught on an exposed tree root winding across the trail, and I went flailing to the ground. My arms skidded out in front of me, and my knees were ground into the dirt. I lay on the trail, tired and scraped, for a long time. Finally, tears leaked from my eyes, trailblazing a path down my cheeks and dripping to the ground in salty droplets. My anger had dissipated, and now all I could do was clutch my English book and let the tears flow on my cheeks. Stupid Sam, stupid Bridgit... I wish I hadn't ever met either of them.

"Max?" Fang's worried voice broke me out of my bitter recollections. "Max, are you crying?"

"What?" I asked, looking at him in confusion. "Why would I be crying?"

"Oh, sorry, I must be mistaken," Fang replied, somewhat sarcastically. "These must be from your eyes sweating." Fang gently brushed his thumb against my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn't realized had been winding its way down my face.

"Right, Fang, my eyes are sweating," I agreed, rubbing away another rogue tear. Stupid Sam was still hurting me now, making me cry in school. The jerk.

"Are you okay?" Fang set his binder down on the desk and sitting in his chair. I nodded, sniffing loudly to get rid of any more tears. Fang's expression went from worried to unemotional in a flash. "Is it about Max II?" he asked blankly. I sat up straighter in my chair, surprised by his question.

"What? No, it was- why would you think it'd be Max II?" I stuttered. There was no way I was telling Fang about Sam ditching me for Bridgit. Not yet, at least. But why would he think I was crying over Max II?

"Oh." Fang's expression relaxed slightly. "I just thought- nevermind."

"No, what is it?" I asked, confused by his behavior.

"I thought that maybe Max had done something, since, you know, he asked you out and all," Fang mumbled, turning his head away from me. I gaped at him.

"How did you hear that?" I asked, slightly dismayed. I wish that I could have told Fang, instead of having him hear about it through the gossip network.

"Nudge," he replied simply.

I should have known. Nudge had probably informed half the school about wedding plans for Max II and me by now. I loved the girl and all, but she was a right chatterbox. "Are you okay with that?" I asked quietly. "I know you don't really like Max II."

Fang looked surprised, which meant that his eyes were open a hair wider than usual, and his eyebrows were raised a fraction of a centimeter. "Are you really asking me for my approval?" he clarified slowly, ignoring the part about disliking Max II. I nodded, biting my lip in apprehension.  
"Your opinion means a lot to me," I admitted. "I know we've only been friends for like, three weeks, but I feel like I've known you forever. I would hate it if you didn't like Max inviting me to that dance."

"Really?" Fang looked even more surprised. His dark eyes opened "Really," I confirmed, smiling slightly. "You could say we're besties!"  
"I don't remember agreeing to be besties," Fang murmured. I elbowed him in the ribs.

"Too bad. We're officially besties," I ordered. Fang smirked at me.

"Okay then, bestie," he agreed. I smiled at him.

"So are you fine with Max II then?" I asked. Fang hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"If he makes you happy," he answered, looking resigned. I chose not to respond to that. After all, I wasn't sure if Max II made me happy. I wasn't even sure about going to the dance with him.

But I couldn't back out now. I didn't want to ditch on Max II. He was my friend, after all.

I would simply continue to avoid him until the dance.

**Hey guys, I'm finally out of school! *crowd goes wild again* But the sad thing (for you) is that I'm going on a trip with a couple friends for a week, and most likely will not update for the week. However, for the rest of the summer I'm going to try to update one of my stories every week after this!**

**Love ya!**

**~TMI~**


	15. My Heart Belongs to

**I kinda just realized I haven't done any disclaimers for this story...  
So yeah.  
Gazzy: TMI DON'T OWN US.  
;_; I should though. Dontcha think? Lol. Oh! And someone asked me what my penname means. It's text talk for  
****T****oo  
****M****uch  
****I****nformation**

**Some people thought it was The Mortal Instruments, and it's really funny cause I see people saying I LOVE TMI and I'm like awwww and then others are all Disclaimer: I don't own TMI and I'm all HELL NO YOU DON'T.**

**Then I realized that they meant The Mortal Instruments.**

…

**THANK YOU TO MY BEAUTIFUL REVIEWERS! You all inspire me to greater heights than I can imagine possible.**

**FPOV**  
I wandered in from the soccer field with Gazzy, bruised and muddy from our pre-school scrimmage. I brushed the sweat off my forehead, flipping my bangs over my eyes to cool them off further. Gazzy laughed at my behavior, pointing towards my head. "You look like a big black dog with your fur over your face, Fang. You even have a doggy name! Ruff, ruff!" Gazzy playfully bumped me with his shoulder. I quirked one side of my mouth up in a half-smile at him.

"Thanks," I muttered. Gazzy laughed again, and we continued to the front of the school. I sat down on our usual bench, and Gazzy plopped beside me as I began to strip off my-

No, not my shirt. My shinguards.

Jeez.

I stuffed the sweaty equipment in the outer pocket of my backpack to air out, and began to put my shoes back on. The guys who played soccer with me before school didn't wear cleats, just our normal shoes. However, if we didn't wear shinguards during our matches, we would have bruises the size of mangoes all over our legs. Gazzy never hesitated to slide tackle our legs if he thought we were getting away with the ball. True, that move was illegal, but Gaz didn't care when he played with us. He was a rule breaker, born and bred.

Gazzy and I stood up to head to our lockers before homeroom. Gazzy was still hurriedly stuffing his nauseatingly smelly shinguards in his bag, but I was ready to go. "See you, Fang," Gazzy mumbled, focused on the zipper of his backpack. I nodded in reply and turned to head to my locker. However, before I had taken two steps, an abrupt shriek split the air.

"ZOMG FANG GAZZY GUESS WHAAAAAAT!" Nudge's voice echoed loudly in the hallway, and at least thirty heads turned at the shrill squeal she was exhibiting. Nudge raced down the hallway to me, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright. Gazzy turned to me with a question in his eyes, but I simply shrugged in response. I didn't know why Nudge was going ballistic.

"Yeah Nudge?" Gazzy ventured, looking resigned. Nudge wrinkled her nose at the scent of Gazzy's odorous shinguards, but didn't say anything about them. Instead she started spouting gossip about something else.

"ZOMG GUESS WHAT?" she shrieked. Half the hallway was still watching her antics. I put my hands firmly on her shoulders, looking seriously in her eyes. Nudge calmed down noticeably, but she still fidgeted with excitement. She must have some big news to share.

"What is it?" I sighed, slightly curious. Nudge giggled loudly, her smile as wide as the Pacific Ocean.

"Max II asked Max I to the dance this Friday! Isn't that adorable? Max and Max! They'll look so freaking cute together!" Nudge babbled excitedly. Her eyes were trained on mine, as if she was waiting specifically for my reaction to her news. Gazzy smiled at Nudge, but I froze.

"Did she accept?" I asked, unable to stop myself. Nudge nodded, bouncing up and down with excitement. My head felt a bit peculiar at her confirmation.

"That's great, Nudge," Gazzy told her enthusiastically. "Max II has been mooning over her since she first arrived."

At Gazzy's words, Nudge's eyes flickered over to me again. I stared back, my face masked with indifference as usual. Why should I care if Max II asked Max to the dance? He had every right to. Just because I didn't particularly like him and he wasn't that great of a soccer player didn't mean he was a bad person. Gazzy was friends with him, so he obviously wasn't awful. I would just have to... get used to the idea. Right, I would just have to let Max II prove himself. I opened my mouth to tell Nudge what I thought about her news. "That's-"

Suddenly, the warning bell rang. Its shrill resonance interrupted me mid-sentence, and I spun around to head in the right direction. "Catch you later," I murmured to Nudge and Gazzy, heading towards my locker. When I glanced back over my shoulder, they had their heads together, and were whispering feverishly.

I shook my head, hurrying to my locker. My friends were acting so weird lately. First Max had a mood swing a couple weeks ago, then Iggy started PMS-ing, then Max II went emo because he didn't make the school soccer team. Now Nudge and Gazzy were conspiring? I shuddered. Their alliance would be very powerful. I didn't need the stress. Really, I didn't.

After I had stuffed my backpack in my locker, I made my way through the crowds to homeroom. Ms James smiled at me as I walked in through the door, and I nodded back to her. I walked up the aisle between the desks slowly, wondering what I could possibly say to Max. What was I supposed to say? Good luck with Max II, watch where his hands roam?

I mentally groaned, hoping I could just avoid the subject. I would just talk with Max about soccer, like I usually did in homeroom. Resolutely, I hurried the rest of the way to my seat. I was about to sit down when I saw Max. Her fists were clenched so tight that her knuckles were turning white, and her whole body language was tense and rigid. The thing that shell-shocked me though, was her expression. She looked absolutely heartbroken, her eyes filled with pain. I hadn't seen Max ever look this way before, and frankly, it scared me. She hadn't looked like this when she hurt her foot, or even when I ate her last Swedish Fish last weekend. Then I saw something even more shocking.

There were tears running down Max's face.

"Max?" I heard myself ask. My voice sounded as shocked as I felt. "Max, are you crying?"

Max's head jerked slightly, and her eyes focused on me. She sniffed slightly, her forehead crinkling in slight confusion. "What? Why would I be crying?" she asked.

I raised an eyebrow at her. Max was so weird. Did she even realize she was crying?

Oh no. Was this another creepy mood swing like last week? I hoped not. I had discovered that Moody Max was not a pleasant person to have around. Maybe I could snap her out of it somehow... "Oh, sorry, I must be mistaken," I replied, shifting my books to my left hand. "These are from your eyes sweating." Gently, I leaned over and brushed away one of the tears tracking water stains over Max's face. Her cheek was surprisingly soft. For some reason, I didn't think Max's face would be soft, since she acted so tough all the time.

Max relaxed a tiny bit, and I noticed that her hands had unfolded. There were small crescents imprinted into Max's palms from where her fingernails had dug into her skin. I was slightly alarmed at the sight, but managed to keep my calm mask intact. I retracted my hand from Max's face, watching her smile slightly. "Right, Fang," she teased. "My eyes are sweating."

"Are you okay?" The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. Max nodded hesitantly, rubbing the rest of the tears off her face. Suddenly, an idea came to me. "Is it about Max II?" I asked dully, dreading her answer for some reason. I didn't like the idea that Max II was making Max cry, but I had to ask.

Max looked surprised. "What? No, it was-" Max paused, hesitating before saying something. What wasn't she telling me? Well, at least she wasn't crying over Max II. "Why would you think it'd be Max II?"

Dammit. I forgot I wasn't supposed to know about their date yet. Hopefully Max wouldn't be miffed that I had heard about it through the school gossip. Or, more correctly, the Nudge gossip. "Oh, I just thought- nevermind," I mumbled.

Max looked interested though, which had me mentally cursing. "No, what is it?"

Think, Fang, think! What's something you can say that isn't too embarrassing and jealous-sounding? Cause I'm not jealous, nuh uh. I'm just experiencing a healthy concern about my new friend going on a date with my less-than-friend. Right. That's it. "i thought that maybe Max had done something, since, you know, he asked you out and all," I blurted out quickly, internally commanding my face to stay calm and impassive. I've never liked emotions. They're too hard to control. I averted my gaze from Max at that thought. She seemed to read me better than most people, and I didn't want her to somehow understand that thought.

"Who told you that?" Max demanded, sounding slightly upset. Was she even planning on telling me about Max II? She must have known I would hear about it eventually.

"Nudge," I admitted, feeling slightly sheepish for overreacting.

Max was silent for a moment, and I looked back at her face. I hoped I hadn't made her upset. That was all I needed, an upset Maximum Ride. I had quickly learned that it was in everybody's best interest if Max was happy. If she wasn't, she tended to hurt people more often...

"Are you okay with that?" Max asked suddenly, breaking me out of my thoughts. "I know you don't really like Max II."

I felt a tint bit of my surprise leak into my expression, and hastened to smooth it out. Was I really that obvious in my slight dislike for Max II? I thought I was being fairly subtle...

But this is where Max's odd ability to read me well comes into play.

"Are you really asking me for my approval?" I asked slowly, looking into Max's eyes for confirmation.

"Your opinion means a lot to me," Max replied with a nod.

That felt... good, to know she wanted me to be happy with the guy she was going to that dance with. A lot of girls I know wouldn't bother to be that nice.

"...I would hate that you didn't like Max taking me to that dance," Max admitted.

"Really?" The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"Really," Max told me, smiling slightly. "You could say we're besties!"

Where did this girl come from? Why hadn't she moved here sooner?

"I don't remember agreeing to be besties," I pointed out quietly, smirking at her. Max promptly elbowed me in the ribs as a way of response. Ow! Max really had some intense violence issues. I swear I had gained double the bruises I usually obtained since I met her.

"Too bad," Max growled. "We're now officially besties."

Fine, Commander Ride. No need to get huffy. "Okay then, bestie," I said aloud, smirking as the strange word slid off my tongue.

Max looked at me hesitantly again, as if she wanted to say something else. I waited patiently for her to speak again, watching her thoughts flicker across her face. "So are you fine with Max II then?" she finally asked, sounding as if she was waiting solely for my confirmation.

I could say no. I could tell her it would make me miserable if they went out on Friday, and Max would probably ditch their date. After all, we were besties.

But... I couldn't do that to her. I'd feel too guilty about it. I took a deep breath, and looked back at Max. "If he makes you happy," I told her seriously. After all, that was what mattered most- if Max herself was happy about the date.

Max nodded slowly, looking far away. She settled back in her chair as the announcements crackled on, and we sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of homeroom. That was that. The Max II complication had been resolved.

Classes flew by quickly until lunch, and I breezed through them all. The teachers at Cromwell were pretty cool as a whole, and I'd been lucky enough this year to be seated with Gazzy as a desk mate in history. Mrs. Hell, as Iggy had nicknamed her, made history even more boring for me than it normally was. Gazzy felt the same way, luckily, so we spent her class period discussing soccer most of the time. After all, soccer is a very interesting subject. I could talk about it for hours. I'm fact, I've been known to babble like Nudge on a good day, which is very strange for most people to witness. As a rule, I don't like to talk much. It wastes time.

Unless it's concerning soccer. Then, there's plenty of time. Always.

I have PE right before lunch, so I was still changing into my normal clothes when the loudspeaker came to life, making everyone in the locker room wince at the noise. "Will all members of the soccer team please check the bulletin board outside the locker rooms during the lunch period. That is all, thank you."

I looked over at Devon, who had also made the team. He caught my eye and shrugged. "I dunno what it's for either," he told me, answering my unspoken question. "Let's go check."

Devon and I quickly finished changing and headed outside to scrutinize the bulletin board. Elizabeth Valencia and Sadie Davis were also peering at the board, and I remembered that they had also made the team. "What's up there?" Devon asked casually, coming up behind Sadie. Sadie didn't spare him a glance as she pored over one of the sheets of paper pinned to the board.

"Practice and game schedules," she replied. "Practice starts immediately, and games start next week."

Devon nodded, moving to get a closer look at the board. "Is there a way to get a copy of those?" he murmured, half to himself.

Elizabeth turned to look at him, and smiled shyly. "First practice is today, so you can ask Coach Walker about it," she recommended.

"That's a good idea. Thanks Liz," Devon told her with a smile. Elizabeth nodded wordlessly, turning back to study the papers.

I moved to get a closer look at them, already anticipating playing with the team. It promised to be a talented group this year, judging from tryouts. The papers stated what Sadie had said before about the practices and games. I nodded slowly, memorizing the words on the pages. I could manage the schedule without too much trouble. My club soccer team's practices were on Wednesday and Friday nights, and I could probably get out of a few of them for the school games if I had to. My coach loved me, so it wouldn't be too difficult.

The rest of the soccer team eventually filtered in from the rest of the school to take a look at the bulletin board. I waited as people came and left, knowing that my friends would show up eventually.

Exactly four minutes later, Gazzy, Max, Ella, Nudge, Matt, and Lucas came walking up, laughing and talking among themselves. I waited silently by the board, my eyes shifting from friend to friend.

I was secretly glad Max II wasn't among them. It may be mean, but I was suddenly thankful he hadn't made the Cromwell team.

"Hey Fang!" Max chirped, noticing me first. Everyone added in their greetings, and I nodded in reply.

Predictably, Nudge ran to the bulletin board first. She always had to know everything first, which could be cute at times, and annoying at others. Thankfully, right now was one of the cute times, and everyone crowded around Nudge to read over shoulders. "This says we have practices Monday, Wednesday, and some Fridays every week from three fifteen to five," Nudge reported. "And then there's games every Tuesday and Thursday, and on the Fridays when we don't have practice! Whew!" Nudge paused, turning to glance at us. "We aren't going to have much free time for awhile," she remarked.

"When do practices start?" Gazzy asked, craning his neck to try to see over Nudge's shoulder.

"Today," she replied. "Except that this week, since we don't have any games, practices are going to be held from five to nine so we can get a head start. That is a looooooong practice!"

"Eh, it's not that unusual," Gazzy replied, ruffling his hair with one stray hand. "I've had practices like that before on certain club teams. And this is only for this week."

"Yeah, but I have tons of homework this week! When are we going to have time to do it?" Lucas demanded, looking slightly peeved.

"Chill, Luke. We'll find some way," Matt reasoned. Lucas rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything else.

Suddenly, Nudge's eyes widened, and she flew over to Max. "Max! Max!" she shrieked, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her violently. Nudge was much stronger than most people gave her credit for, so Max was being jerked around quite effectively.

Max looked alarmed as she was shaken back and forth in Nudge's firm grasp. "What, Nudge?" she cried, tearing herself out of Nudge's firm grip.

Nudge looked positively distressed. "We have soccer practice this Friday from five to nine!" she screamed, like it was the end of the world.

Now I like a good apocalypse theory as much as the next guy, but I hadn't heard anything recently. What was Nudge going on about?

Apparently Max didn't understand what was happening either, because her face was blank. "I'm lost," she admitted. "Why is that bad again?"

Nudge looked at Max like the poor, confused girl had lost her mind. "The dance is this Friday, from seven to nine!" she screeched. "You won't be able to go with Max II if we have practice!"

"Oh," Max realized. She shrugged. "That's too bad, I guess."

"Too bad!" Nudge shrieked, still worked up. "Don't you care at all? Aren't you upset?"

"I guess so," Max hedged, sounding hesitant. "I mean, I feel bad about ditching on Max II."

"He'll understand," I assured Max, clapping her on the shoulder as I walked past. "I'm hungry." I headed over towards the cafeteria, and eventually everyone else followed.

Iggy, Terra, Jake, Vlasis, and Max II were already sitting at the lunch table when we arrived. I sat down next to Iggy and immediately started to eat. "So, my dear soccer fanatics," Iggy drawled. "What was that about?"

"Schedule for the season, games and practices," Matt informed him, unwrapping his sandwich.

"Oh, that's cool," Max II remarked, obviously trying to be nice about the whole thing, even though he hadn't made the team. "I guess you guys are gonna be really busy for awhile, am I right?"

Ella and I turned to look over at Max, who avoided our gazes. Nudge nudged Max none-too-gently, and gave a pointed look towards Max II that I'm pretty sure everyone at the table saw. Subtlety isn't Nudge's strong point. Never was, never will be.

"Umm, yeah, about that Max II," Max began hesitantly. She set her lunch bag down on the table, an uncharacteristic emotion on her face- was she nervous? Max didn't get nervous. It just didn't happen. "Can I talk with you outside for a moment?"

"Sure," Max II complied, obviously confused. He stood up from the table and followed Max out of the cafeteria.

Nudge sighed loudly, plopping down heavily in her seat next to Terra. "Oh high school drama, we meet again," Nudge commented theatrically. I rolled my eyes and continued to eat. There was still no apocalypse probability, in my opinion. It was a dance, no big deal.

"What's the sitch?" Terra asked, eager for the latest gossip scoop.

"We have soccer practice this Friday from five to nine, so Max can't go to the dance with Max!" Nudge exclaimed. "It's so aggravating!"

"Oh no, Nudge, your matchmaking has failed yet again. What a tragedy," Iggy teased. Nudge huffed in return.

"I wasn't matchmaking," she protested. "I was just trying to gently push them together-"

"Max II doesn't need much pushing," I commented casually, taking another bite of my sandwich.

Instantly, Gazzy and Nudge were riveted on me. "Why do you say that, Fang?" Gazzy asked immediately. "Jealous?"

I was so surprised by his question that I actually started choking on my sandwich. Everyone at the table laughed at my predicament, instead of helping me, and I nearly suffocated on that bite of sandwich. I swear I was starting to black out when someone started forcefully clapping me on the back, and I coughed out the food blocking my esophagus.

When I turned to see my rescuer, I wasn't surprised in the least to see Max standing there, surveying me worriedly. "You okay?" she asked, sitting down on my other side. I nodded in reply, rubbing my burning throat and shooting glares at the other people at our table.

"No thanks to them," I muttered, jerking my head in their general direction. Nudge giggled again, and ms everybody else snickered loudly.

"Jeez, Fang, what awful friends you have," Max tsked, grinning widely. I nodded emphatically.

"Tell me about it," I mumbled, taking a very careful bite of my sandwich.

"So how'd it go with Max II?" Terra asked sympathetically. Max grimaced, and everyone winced in reply.

"Not so good," Max summarized, looking uncomfortable. "As you can tell, he was disinclined to continue eating lunch with us today after I told him I couldn't go to the dance with him. I feel so bad." Max rubbed her forehead, not touching her food.

"If he's so mad about that, and you don't think it's a big deal, your relationship is doomed," Ella predicted. Max looked like she was in agreement with Ella, and there was a resigned expression on her face.

"Why don't you just go out for ice cream or something like that instead?" Gazzy suggested, waving his apple around to emphasize his point. "Then you still have a date, just not at the dance."

Max shook her head. "That wouldn't work. We have soccer practice and games everyday of the week, and I'm looking around for a club soccer team to play on also, which would take up my weekends," Max reasoned. "I'm no good with boys," she sighed. "My heart belongs to soccer."

"Fanatic," Ella coughed loudly. Max glared at her sister, but made no comment. I nudged Max gently with my elbow, half-smiling.

"You know she speaks the truth," I whispered. Max shrugged.

"No reason to tell her that," Max replied quietly. I nodded in understanding, and Max laughed. "Thank you Fang, for understanding me," she proclaimed suddenly, dropping her sandwich and throwing her arms around me again. I was startled by her sudden hug, but wrapped my arm around her anyway. "Unlike my dearest sister," Max added, shooting a glare at Ella from under my arm. Ella rolled her eyes and started whispering with Nudge and Gazzy. Max disentangled herself from me, moving casually back to her seat and starting to eat her lunch. I shook my head at her antics, and continued eating my own food.

Max really was something else.

Inexplicably, I felt much more at peace now that I knew Max wasn't going to that dance with Max II. I wondered vaguely why that was, but no plausible solution came to mind, so I abandoned the train of thought. No need to pursue it now. There was plenty of time for philosophical brooding later, when I wasn't enjoying the delicious homemade cookie Ella had given me earlier. I bit onto the simple, ordinary chocolate chip cookie, and experienced heaven.

Hot damn, Dr Martinez was an amazing baker. I'd have to get more of these somehow. They'd sell for millions on eBay.

While I was busy contemplating the values of Dr Martinez's delectable cookies, the rest of the table had drifted away to their lockers and such. Only Max and I were left, still chewing away. I noticed that she was also holding one of her mother's cookies and observed with amusement the expression of ecstasy written all over her face. "Enjoying that?" I inquired, watching Max's eyes fly open. She glanced around our table confusedly, then looked back at me.

"Where did everyone go?" she asked, her expression changing to a completely confused, innocent one.

"They were jealous of your cookie, so they went off to raid your house and hold Ella for ransom to get more for themselves," I explained seriously.

Max nodded slowly, processing my statement. "They can keep Ells," she decided nonchalantly. "And they'll never find our cookies. I hide them everyday in a new spot."

We stood up from the lunch table with our cookies, walking with unspoken agreement towards our art class. "That is dedication," I remarked. "Don't you ever run out of hiding places?"

"Well, now we have a whole new house, so I can start over again," Max reasoned seriously. "I haven't even used some of my favorite spots yet. Ella's underwear drawer is one particularly hilarious one."

"Thank you for those mental images of your sister's underwear," I grumbled. Max snickered, so I elbowed her in the ribs. "Not funny, Maxi," I muttered.

Immediately, Max stopped walking. I stopped too, wondering why she had halted in the middle of the hallway. "Never," she breathed, somehow looking furious and very far away at the same time. "Never, ever, ever call me Maxi. Just don't."

"Okay," I agreed awkwardly, wondering what was so bad about the nickname. She called me Fangy all the time, but I never got seriously angry at her for it. In my opinion, Fangy was worse than Maxi.

As soon as I agreed, Max was happy again, continuing on our way to art class as if nothing had happened. "Sorry about that," she apologized cheerfully. "My ex-boyfriend from Nevada called me Maxi, and I have some very horrible and scarring memories from our relationship that I would love to forget about."

"Sorry," I murmured, feeling bad about making her remember the unpleasant memories.

"No problem," Max assured me. She turned to look at me, making a very solemn face. "Just don't do it again, or I'll have to maim you, and you wouldn't ever play soccer again. We wouldn't want that, would we now, Fangy?"

"So I can't call you Maxi, but you can call me Fangy?" I asked indignantly as we entered art class. "How fair is that?"

"Scarring ex-boyfriend problems," Max reminded me, flipping her long hair over her shoulder with a bright flick. "I don't think you have any of those."

"I have scarring ex-girlfriend problems," I offered. "Lissa always called me Fangy."

Max was silent for a moment, settling into her seat. I watched as she slowly appraised my argument, her forehead wrinkled slightly. "Good point," she admitted finally. "I won't call you Fangy." I nodded triumphantly, happy with my achievement. "I'll just call you Fangles instead," Max added wickedly.

Max cackled happily, but I groaned and set my head on the desk. Stupid girls. They all seemed intent on ruining my life.

Suddenly, Max tapped gently on my shoulder, and I turned my head on my desk to face her. "What do you want?" I groaned, feeling immensely tired all of a sudden. Max smiled, putting her head down on the desk a foot away from me. "Thanks Fang, for everything," she told me happily, closing her eyes.

I was startled by Max's words, but I didn't show any change of facial expression. "Your welcome," I replied simply.

Maybe girls weren't so bad after all. Especially not Max.

**Edited as of 2/10/12**

**N'awwww... I love Fax. Even if neither characters realize it's Fax, like right now.**

**I was gonna say something… But I can't remember what…**

… **whatevaz. LOVE YOU ALL!**

**And if anyone has time, I'd be honored if you read my other fic Storytime. I put a lot of work into it, especially the last chapter, and I would adore some feedback. THANK YOU!**

**~TMI~**


	16. The Cromwell Lynxes Saga Begins

**Dedicated to all of my lovely reviewers, and Iggy, who barely shows up in this chapter at all. =P Also, to The Seagull, who sent me a postcard! Yay! =P**

**I remembered what I forgot in the last chapter! Yay TMI! So I know how this is supposed to be all sparkly and normal high schoolers, but imma had a brilliant plot twist idea. Would any of you hate it if they got wings? And there was some angsty depressing scientist stuff? Cause I'm itching to follow through with that idea... I'm just a dark girl at heart. =P**

**And I'm curious about something else that's totally unrelated. How old do you guys think I am? Nine? Fifty two? Seventeen? Twenty-six? I'll give you a hint: I'm legal fanfiction age for an account, but below age sixty. Is that an interesting enough range? XD**

**OH! And I don't know if it'll show up, but I tried a new format on this chapter. PurpleTea88, if you're reading this, I've been working to find out why the format is so sketchy. If it works, do you guys like this better?**

MPOV

I sighed, running a distracted hand through my messy hair. Ella and Nudge stopped their chatter from the other side of the locker room and glanced at me knowingly. "Max II's reply still bothering you?" Nudge guessed. I nodded, leaning down to open my PE locker. "What exactly happened?" she pried, sounding curious.

I halted my fingers on the combination lock, turning to face Nudge. "He got mad when I told him about soccer practice," I explained wearily, not wanting to relive our conversation. "Said something about me being selfish, rude, and uncommitted to my decisions. I got mad and spat something back at him. He left," I summarized shortly.

Ella winced. "That stinks," she told me gently, pulling her hair into a ponytail. I shook my head.

"No, it's okay. I'm just glad that he showed me how he really feels before I wasted too much time on him," I replied, tugging off my jeans and throwing them in my locker. I picked up my shorts and started putting them on before I continued. "I always knew that soccer is a better boyfriend than any guy. I should stick with my sport."

"What? No, Max!" Nudge protested, her shirt halfway on. Suddenly, her head popped out of the neck hole, and she glared at me fiercely. "You can't think like that! There are nice guys in the world! Max II just wasn't the right one!"

"You're just glad you didn't have to go to the dance!" Ella accused, looking scandalized. I smiled impishly and said nothing as I adjusted my shorts. "Maximum Riesra Ride! That is unacceptable!" she shrieked. I grinned in reply, slamming the door to my locker and whirling around on the bench.

"Ella Louise Martinez!" I teased, pulling on the rest of my equipment. Ella opened her mouth to retort something, but she was cut off by the door swinging open. We all watched as five girls entered together. A couple of them looked shy, but the majority were laughing and shoving each other as they came in. I didn't recognize anyone except Sadie Davis, who was in my algebra class. However, Ella and Nudge squealed greetings to everybody by name. I rolled my eyes, smiling slightly as I began to tie up my shoe laces.

To say that Max II had gone ballistic when I informed him about soccer practice would be an overstatement. However, to say that he had kindly accepted it and gone off to romp in a field of buttercups would be a complete understatement.

Thankfully, he hadn't been as angry as Ella was when I stole her signed copy of _Harry Potter_ and accidentally smeared raspberry jam all over the majority of the book. But, Max II had definitely been pretty upset. I still clearly recalled the event from lunch earlier today, unfortunately.

We had gone outside somewhat awkwardly, and I stood there, staring him down and trying to think of a nice way to word this. Max II was happy enough to stare back, but after awhile he broke the silence. "Max?" he prompted. "You wanted to tell me something?"

"Umm, yeah," I agreed. "Well, you know how you asked me to the dance?"

"Yep," Max II replied, looking excited. "I can't wait!"

Oh great. Now I felt even worse than I did before about the whole thing. I really shouldn't agree to going to dances with guys. It never works our anyway. "I'm really sorry, but I can't go anymore," I said really quickly. Max II's smile froze, and it looked like he had gone into shock.

"What?" he managed to ask. I winced at the sound of his voice. He seemed to be struggling to speak.

"I can't go with you to the dance," I repeated, trying to be gentle. It was kind of difficult, actually. I'm not the gentlest person, to say the least. "I'm sorry."

"Why not?" Max II demanded, seeming to find his voice again.

"Well, I-" I began. Max II cut me off, looking angry now.

"Did Fang ask you, and you prefer him over me? Is that it?" Max II accused. I could feel my eyes widen, and I hastened to explain.

"No, Fang didn't ask me out!" I assured him. "He's just my friend."

"Then why can't you go with me?" Max II shot back, looking strangely triumphant. I bit back a snappy retort, trying to calm down. Max II had every right to be upset. I should respect that.

"I have soccer practice from five to nine," I explained, gritting my teeth. I was itching to yell out, 'None of your business! I'm not going to a stupid dance!' Luckily, I refrained.

Max II's eyes hardened. "Oh, I see. So you're still going to be gadding about with Fang," he snapped. "You just like him better."

"I have no idea why you think I'm secretly in love with Fang," I hissed, trying to keep my voice down. It was oddly difficult to say those words, but I didn't have time to ponder why. I focused instead on the immediate situation. "We're not going to be 'gadding about', we're going to be playing soccer! And it's not just us! It's everyone on the team!"

Max II's eyes flashed, and I felt a tiny bit bad. I knew he was still upset about not making the team. I shouldn't have said that.

"Well you should tell the coach that you have a previous commitment and you can't make that practice," Max II retorted. "You promised you'd go to the dance with me!"

"I never promised anything," I snapped, suddenly very angry. "Don't make things up! And I'm going to practice, not that stupid dance. Sorry if I hurt your little feelings." I turned to go back in the cafeteria. I was done with being nice.

"You like soccer more than you like me!" Max II yelled, his voice echoing in the empty hallway. I whirled around, my hand still on the handle to the cafeteria doors.

"Yeah, I definitely do," I replied, my voice much calmer than I felt. Max II looked slightly shocked, and I felt an unholy glee rise up inside of me at the expression on his face.

"Alright girls, everyone ready?" Anne's crisp call echoed in the locker room, snapping me out of the memory, and was answered by eight affirmative shouts. "Let's go out then," she continued.

There was an immediate stampede for the door as we all jumped up and ran, excited to start practicing. The cool air hit my face as soon as we exited the locker room, a nice change from the warm, sweaty sugar cookie-scented air we had previously been breathing. That locker room air can't possibly be healthy.

The boys of the soccer team were waiting for us outside, pushing and shoving each other roughly around. I rolled my eyes at their antics, glad to see that none of the girls were giggling over the idiots.

Anne directed us over to the center of the soccer field, and we trooped over, our cleats clicking on the concrete walkways. When we hit the turf, the noise was immediately muffled, and the only sound was the cool breeze flitting around the field. "Sit in a circle here," Anne commanded, somehow managing to make the order sound completely serious and not something we'd been doing since preschool. We obeyed her wishes, scrambling to sit next to our friends. I found myself sandwiched between Gazzy and Fang, across the circle from my sister and Nudge. "Okay then," Anne continued once we were all situated. "Hello, Cromwell Lynxes. Congratulations on making the team!"

A few people cheered at this. I smiled when I spotted Nudge and Ella performing some intense, complicated handshake to celebrate.

"As you all know, you'll have to keep your grades up in order to keep playing on this team. You'll need at least a C average, with no Fs in any classes," Anne explained, her sharp eyes flitting around to include all of us in one look. "Any grade problems will result in suspension from the team until the problems are resolved. You need to be at school and participate in PE on game days in order to play in the game. Your play time in games will be based on your practices. Understood?"

Everyone nodded, all of our attention focused on Anne. She had a gift for keeping the focus on her without trying very hard. That must be useful as a coach.

Suddenly, Lucas raised his hand, and Anne's gaze switched to him. "Yes?" she asked swiftly.

Lucas looked a tiny bit nervous as everyone's attention turned to him. "Umm, so this week we have pretty long practices," he started quietly, looking at the grass. "I don't think I'll have enough time to finish all of my homework this week." I wasn't surprised that it was Lucas worrying about schoolwork. He was a really hardworking student, from what I knew about him.

"As much as I hate to say it, you have to put school before soccer," Anne sighed, her eyes twinkling. "If you need to, skip part of practice and finish your homework. Just know that it will reflect on your game time. Any more questions?" Nobody raised their hand. "Alrighty then! Let's get introductions over with!" Anne declared, a sudden smile breaking over her face. She pointed at a blonde girl sitting to her left. "You can start. Name, position, and favorite color."

The girl blinked, and I stifled a laugh. She looked more like the type of person who would rather be reading a book than telling a crowd of people about herself. "Umm, hi," she began, twirling her dark ponytail around a few fingers as she spoke. "I'm Elizabeth Marguerite Valencia," she started, a small smile twisting her lips slightly. "But I go by Liz. I play left midfield, and my favorite color is green."

Sadie was sitting next to Liz, and she introduced herself next, not cracking a smile the entire time. "I'm Sadie, wing midfield, silver."

"I'm Juliann, I play mid too, and I like purple."

"I'm Matt, defense, blue."

"I'm Lucas, wing defense, umm, red."

"Ford, goalie, green."

"Jack, wing defense, green."

"Ella, stopper, neon purple!"

"ZOMG I'm Nudge, I play sweeper and stopper, and I love bright colors in general!"

The circle went on around, slightly monotonously, until we got to the second goalie. She had dark blonde hair in a long ponytail, and a wide grin. "Lauri's the name, soccer's my game! I play goalie, and I kick butt at it! The best color ever is neon green, as you all see." Lauri stuck her feet up in the air and wiggled them around to show us her bright green cleats.

"Well said, Laurs," Juliann snickered.

And then the circle continued on its monotonous way.

"Rosanna, forward, pink and gold."

"Devon, sweeper, blue."

"Danny, mostly left midfield, yellow."

"Fang, forward, purple and red."

Well, that was a surprise. I always assumed Fang's favorite color was black, since that, dark green, and navy were the only colors he ever really wore. Even now, he was wearing black shorts, a black shirt, and black socks with his plain black cleats. In school, all of his binders were black, and according to Nudge, his underwear too

Erase thoughts about Fang's boxers! Immediately! Agh!

"Max!" Someone nudged me, and I snapped to attention.

"What?" I asked stupidly, prompting a laugh from several of my new teammates. "Oh, whoops. Sorry," I muttered, slightly embarrassed.

"Continue," Anne commanded.

I smiled slightly as I restarted, trying not to make a fool out of myself again. "I'm Max, I play center midfield, and my favorite colors are purple, gold, and green.

"I'm Gazzy, I play forward, and the color orange pwns face," Gazzy chirped, rocking back and forth on his heels in his crouched position. He looked almost too energetic to be allowed.

"Alright, now you all know each other. Break off into pairs and pass," Anne ordered, walking off towards the sideline. We all had brought our own soccer balls with us, so we all began to look for partners. Ella and Nudge paired off immediately, and Gazzy and Fang high fived over my head. I rolled my eyes at them and stood up to look for a partner.

"Yo, Max, right?" someone asked from behind me. I turned around and saw the sophomore goalie, Ford, looking at me.

I smiled and nodded. "Yep. You're Ford?"

"Yeah," Ford confirmed, smiling back. "You wanna pass?"

"Sure." Without another word, we spread out and began passing with Ford's soccer ball. The first time I passed him the ball, he paused in surprise. I raised an eyebrow at Ford, waiting for him to kick the ball back to me.

"You're right-footed?" he asked, sounding surprised. I nodded, and his forehead furrowed in thought as he finally passed back to me. I trapped the ball and passed back before responding.

"Technically, I'm naturally left-footed," I explained. "But when I was little, all my coaches taught me how to play right-footed, so I learned that way. It wasn't until I was eight when my new coach finally told me I was left-footed, and I didn't believe him." I paused to pass the ball back to Ford again. "Then, I scored a goal left-footed, and I was convinced."

"So you're a lefty, but you can use your right foot?" Ford clarified, his forehead clearing as he understood.

"Yeah. My left foot is usually better than my right foot, but my right is pretty good too," I replied. Ford nodded, and we passed in silence for a few minutes. "Why'd you ask? You seemed perplexed," I teased.

Ford grinned bashfully. "Well, I remember you shooting on me at tryouts, and you kicked left-footed then."

I nodded. "Right. I tend to shoot with my left, 'cause in my opinion it's better than my right. Plus, it's flashy to kick well with your left foot at tryouts. Coaches like having a few leftys on their teams," I admitted, a grin sidling onto my lips.

"Very logical," Ford observed in a lazy drawl. I rolled my eyes. The next pass I gave him, I popped the ball up in the air so it flew towards his head. Ford's eyes widened, and he immediately grabbed the ball out of the air before it hit his face.

I pouted playfully, crossing my arms. "That was supposed to knock some sense into your noggin," I complained.

Ford grinned, dropping the ball to his feet. "Goalie reflexes," he reminded me, chipping the ball up in the air towards me. I chest-trapped it, sending the ball straight to my feet. Ford looked surprised at my amazing, awesome ball control, and I grinned cheekily at him.

"Middie reflexes," I retorted, passing him the ball again. Ford flipped me the bird, and I rolled my eyes in return. Boys are so juvenile- goalies in particular.

We passed quietly for a few more minutes until Anne came back. "Okay everyone, take one lap around the field and then we'll get into real practice mode!" Anne cracked her knuckles ominously, and more than a few people gulped in apprehension. Gazzy just looked excited. I rolled my eyes, following him as he started to rocket around the field. In my opinion, it would be best to conserve our energy. I had no idea what Anne's coaching style would be, and therefore thought it best to take things slow.

At the end of our lap, we met up with Anne, who was smiling wickedly, bouncing a soccer ball against the turf. I was distracted by the spray of little black pellets bouncing up from the synthetic turf, and almost didn't catch her first words. "Let's get going now, shall we? Let the games begin."

That first practice was total and utter hell.

It was grueling on the legs, it was painful on the lungs, and I could barely keep standing at some points. To make matters worse, I was slightly out of shape, since I hadn't played on a soccer team for five or six weeks. I wasn't fat or anything- I just wasn't used to the rigorous workout Anne was putting us through.

Anne showed us her standard warm ups at the beginning, which were simple enough. The lap around the field started them off, and they were followed by a series of stretches and lunges. After that, we formed four lines and began to pass to one another, switching lines every time we touched the ball. About five minutes later, Anne signaled for us to switch to practicing throw-ins. Gazzy was standing at the front of the line opposite me, and he picked the ball up from the turf. Grinning at me, he launched the ball into the air, and I trapped it with my thigh, bringing the ball back down to the turf and dribbling it across to the other line. "These are standard warm ups," Anne announced, coming over to us with a soccer ball in hand. "You will do these at the beginning of every practice and every game."

"Goody," Devon muttered, in line behind me. I ignored him.

The rest of the practice went by in a flurry of passing drills, shooting, and attempts to catch our breath. Anne was a brutal coach, but she gave us water breaks every half hour, so we were still mostly alive. At one such water break, I listened and sipped my water as I listened to Nudge rant. "ZOMG I can't believe we still have another hour of this torture! I can't feel my feet anymore, they went numb like an hour ago. It feels all weird every time I strike the ball, and I hope we don't do any more wind sprints. I don't think my heart could take it," Nudge proclaimed dramatically, swigging from her water bottle. I rolled my eyes at her.

"You'll survive," Fang assured her, his dark eyes sparking with mischief. I pushed him away when he tried to sit next to me- he was all sweaty and gross!- but he just flashed me a stunning grin and took my temporary paralysis as an opportunity to sit down.

"You don't play fair. You know it's startling when you suddenly smile like that," I muttered, elbowing him in the ribs.

Fang elbowed me back. "It's not my fault I'm ruggedly handsome."

"Ruggedly handsome my a-" I was cut off mid-sentence by Anne, who was yelling for us to get off our butts and start practicing. With some difficulty, everyone staggered to their feet and jogged over to where our coach was standing by the goal.

"Half an hour of shooting, Lauri and Ford switch off goalie every time someone scores on you. Then take a quick water break and we'll end the practice with my favorite drill," Anne told us, an ominous smile on her face. I tried to shrug off the feeling she was going to try to murder us with soccer, grabbing a ball and going to stand in the shooting line. Lauri stood in the goal, the stadium lights glinting on her neon green cleats. She smiled wickedly at Rosanna, who was the first shooter in line, and crouched into position.

Lauri and Ford were both seriously annoying me by the time I had taken four shots, and had all of them blocked by one of the duo. They were both too tall for me to chip it over their hands, and Ford was an expert at blocking low corner shots. It was _really_ irksome. Finally fed up with both of them, I positioned the ball and glared at Lauri, who smiled and waved at me cheekily from the goal. I didn't even glance up as I drove my foot into the ball, praying for a goal.

To my extreme pleasure, the next thing I saw was Lauri diving for my shot, missing, and the ball tumbling into the net with that beautiful swishing sound. I smiled as I trotted over to retrieve the ball from the back of the net. Lauri pouted at me, but I simply flashed her a grin and ran back to the line.

My calf muscles were burning in white hot flames by 8:30. Then. our wonderful Coach Anne had us finish up our first practice with an assigned ten rounds of what she affectionately called 'Death Defiers'.

They were _very _accurately named.

I had thought my legs were burning before. Now I could barely concentrate on breathing and running, because my legs had almost gone numb with the exercise.

However, as tired as I was, a lot of the team seemed worse off. Sadie, who was almost as quiet as Fang, was pale and sweaty, and hadn't said a word for three hours. Matt looked close to collapsing, and Lucas actually had collapsed.

In fact, the only people who were still wholeheartedly running the Death Defiers were Ford, Gazzy, and Fang. There was no way I would let any of them best me. Clenching my teeth, I put on a burst of speed and raced past all three of them. My muscles screamed at me to slow down, but I ignored them and continued to speed up. Pain is nothing but a message, Max. Ignore the message. Everything will be fine. You probably won't die. Probably.

Suddenly, a breeze sprang up, washing over me and cooling down my overheated body. I reached up to wipe some sweat off my forehead, and suddenly, I was rejuvenated. The burning in my legs faded, and my breathing lightened. A smile broke across my face as I sped up even more. "SECOND WIND!" I yelled happily, flying by Anne on my seventh round of Death Defiers. I caught a satisfied smile on her face before I was off again, overtaking the other three guys still running. Gazzy shouted something at me as I sprinted past, and Ford just wheezed, but Fang sped up to catch up to me. I glanced at him in surprise, startled that he could keep up with my swift pace.

"Tag, you're it," Fang muttered, brushing my shoulder with his fingers. Then, impossibly, he slowly overtook me, sprinting right past my left side. I'm pretty sure my jaw hit the ground. No one, and I mean no one, is faster than me. It's simply never happened before.

Gritting my teeth, I pushed my speed limits, and found that I could go even faster. I kept my eyes on Fang's back, watching as it came closer and closer. I bumped him with my shoulder as I sprinted past, and I gasped out with my little extra oxygen, "Tag, no tag backs," in his ear. Fang rolled his eyes, but I continued to speed up until I felt like I was flying. My legs carried me around the Death Defier course at lightning speed, feeling strangely light. I smiled at the feeling. It was awesome.

"Stop!" Anne ordered, her voice ringing across the field. I halted immediately, almost falling down as I stopped. My heart was pounding, and I could see my vision throbbing with each pump of that life-giving organ. "Very nice," Anne complimented us, walking around the exhausted team. "Who finished all ten rounds of Death Defiers?"

Fang, Gazzy and I raised our hands. I'm pretty sure Ford had also finished all ten DDs, but he was busy sprinting over to the side of the field. I watched in interest as he hit the cement and fell to his knees, but had to look away when he started retching. Poor kid.

Anne tsked, looking disapprovingly at the rest of the team. They were all sweaty and pallid, collapsed in various places along the DD course. "How many did you all do?"

"Four," Ella croaked.

"Seven," Nudge gasped out.

"Five."

"Two and a half?"

"Five."

"Three."

"Ungh..."

The majority of the team had done five or less DDs, and the ones who had done more than others were even more exhausted than the rest. Anne shook her head at us, and placed her hands on her hips. "You wimps will have to shape up," she scolded. "I'll see you all tomorrow! You are dismissed."

The prone Cromwell Lynxes all stumbled to their feet, groaning and gritting their teeth. Ella staggered over to me, looking pale under her tan. She latched onto my shoulder, almost making me fall with the sudden weight addition. "Ells!" I yelped, "Get off me!"

"But I can't breathe," Ella wheezed dramatically. "My poor legs won't support my body."

"Aww, poor Ellies," I crooned, using the nickname she had hated when we were little. As I predicted, she shoved me away with a huff and stomped off towards the locker rooms.

"Nice tactics," Fang remarked from behind me. I turned to flash him a grin.

"It works every time," I replied airily, brushing my hair away from my face. The majority of my ponytail had escaped its hair tie sometime during my fourth DD. How annoying. I took the tie out and started redoing the ponytail as we started towards the locker rooms together.

"So this happens often?" Fang guessed, watching Ella disappear into the locker rooms ahead of us. I nodded sagely, bending down to grab my soccer ball before we left the field. Fang was dribbling his own with his feet while we walked, each touch perfectly controlled.

I was soooo jealous. Fang had amazing ball control. It was like his feet were magnetic to the ball or something- it never seemed to get away from him.

Fang and I parted without another word, me going into the girls' locker room and he entering the boys'. I was instantly greeted by the warm, sweaty sugar cookie air, and I groaned. Flopping down on a bench in front of my locker, I started to unlace my cleats. Suddenly, I sensed someone standing behind me, and turned to look at them. It was Rosanna and Juliann, and they were both looking down at me sternly. "Umm, can I help you?" I asked, slightly confused. I had been expecting Nudge or Ella. Neither of these girls had spoken to me ever before, so I couldn't think of anything they might want to say to me.

"We're onto you," Rosanna told me, her eyes narrowed. I blinked in surprise, but they weren't done.

"Yeah, we know exactly what you are," Juliann chimed in, her dark eyes mildly threatening.

"Umm, I have no idea-" I began.

Rosanna cut me off. "Don't try to be all innocent, Max. We're not stupid."

Okay, I was utterly lost now. My bewilderment must have shown on my face, because Juliann decided to cut to the chase.

"We know that you're an alien mutant!" Juliann declared dramatically.

I stared at her. "Did I just hear you right?" I asked slowly, wondering if these girls were crazy.

"Yeah, you did," Rosanna replied seriously. "You're obviously an alien. No human could out run Gazzy Richards, Ford Weston, and Fang Rianild, and complete all ten Death Defiers before them without collapsing!"

"See, our logic is perfectly sound!" Juliann flipped her hair confidently. I looked at them again, finally seeing their hidden smiles, the laughter they were struggling to hold back.

I grinned at them, holding my hands in the air. "Dang it, you got me," I sighed in faux defeat. Rosanna and Juliann nodded in a superior manner, stifling their own smiles. "The gig is up. I'm actually an alien."

"I knew it!" Ella's voice crowed from the entrance to the locker room. "I always knew there was something wrong with you, Max!"

"Hey, don't hate on the alien, or I'll call for reinforcements," I threatened. Juliann gulped, looking worriedly at Rosanna.

"Rosie, we've got a problem," she yelped, running back towards her own locker. I smirked at Juliann, cowering behind a bank of lockers.

"That's right. Fear me," I intoned in a deep voice. Rosanna giggled, walking over to her own locker.

"But seriously, Max," Rosanna continued, twirling the dial on her combination lock. "How do you have the stamina to keep doing those things? Death Defiers are a very fitting name for them."

The locker room rang with the sounds of agreement from the others, making me smile. "I'm a good runner," I replied simply, stripping off my shin guards as I spoke. "I once had a soccer coach who made my team run five sets of wind sprints, two laps around the field, and five laps up and down the bleachers every practice. And if we misbehaved during practice, there would be more added on."

Juliann shuddered. "I hope Anne isn't that into running."

"I wouldn't survive," Liz agreed, flopping down on the floor. "I feel rather faint right now," she yawned, closing her eyes.

"Don't go into the light, Liz!" Rosanna shrieked, pouncing on the prone girl. "I know you're tired, but this was only the first practice! You have things to live for!"

"Like Caleb Simmons," Sadie murmured quietly, a smirk sidling onto her face. Liz squeaked with protest, flinging Rosanna off of her and jumping at Sadie. Nudge and Ella had to forcibly hold Liz back so she wouldn't harm her friend.

"Caleb Simmons, eh? That hot sophomore?" Juliann teased, slipping her sweatshirt over her head. "So you like the tall, dark and handsome type, Lizzie?"

Liz muttered something indecipherable and menacing under her breath, stomping over to her locker. Juliann grinned at me, and I smiled back. I was liking all the girls on the team so far.

"Tall, dark and handsome?" Lauri's voice echoed in the locker room as she entered, her long ponytail swishing jauntily. "How 'bout Fang, Lizziefuls? He fits that description pretty well."

I felt my hands stiffen up, and quickly relaxed them, forcing a smile on my face as the other girls laughed. I realized I was getting this reaction quite often when my female friends giggled over Fang. I didn't like them talking about my new bestie like that.

"Oh no," Liz denied emphatically, her eyes sparkling impishly. "Caleb is all I could ever want. I wouldn't be able to talk to Fang; he's too quiet and I'm too quiet."

"The only girl he ever says more than ten words to is Max," Ella declared loudly, smiling at me. I scowled at her in response, ducking my head into my locker in a feigned search for something. I absolutely hated it when she put me on the spot about Fang. Why can't anyone accept that we're just friends?

"He talks to Nudge too," I protested weakly, not liking where this conversation was going.

Nudge snorted, instantly shooting down my defense. "Yeah, it only took him like five years of friendship to warm up to me," she scoffed. "And still I'm usually just talking at him instead of him actually holding a conversation. I was convinced he didn't actually speak English and was just faking it for most of sixth grade."

"So Ella's right," Lauri realized, her smile growing. "What's your secret, Max?"

"I don't flirt with him every ten seconds," I muttered, feeling oddly warm. It must have been from all those DDs earlier.

Lauri laughed, her face genuinely friendly. I relaxed, thankful that she wouldn't be an idiot about Fang. "That usually helps with guys," Lauri agreed. "I had the biggest crush on Gazzy forever," she admitted. "But I was an idiot around him, and he was obviously uncomfortable. I never really had a chance with Gaz- he never really encourages any girls flirting with him. Thankfully, I'm over it now," she sighed. "Guys are too much work."

"I agree," Sadie muttered, shutting her locker. She straightened, giving us a small smile before heading out the door. "Bye."

"Bye Sadie!" we chorused after her. Liz hurried to follow her.

"Sadie, wait up!" Liz yelped, stuffing her feet into her sneakers and running out the door. "Bye guys! See you later!"

Slowly, the female half of the new Cromwell soccer team drained out of the locker room. Soon the only ones left in the room were me, Nudge, and Ella. "I like the team," I remarked to no one in particular as I stuffed my cleats into my soccer bag.

"ZOMG I know, right? They're all so amazing and awesome! Lauri is such a spaz and she's always hyper like me I feel so connected with her! And Sadie and Liz are both so quiet, except Liz has a temper and she talks more than Sadie does; actually, Sadie is kinda like a female Fang, except she wears normal clothing, thank the lord. Rosanna and Juliann always hang out together, it's like they're sisters or something. They're so funny though, with the whole alien thing about you Max!" Nudge gushed happily about the team as we picked up our bags and headed out of the locker room. I was glad I had put on sweatpants and a jacket; it was windy and cool, not to mention 9:30 at night. Mom hadn't been happy when she heard how late practice would run the first week.

"What about the guys on the team, Nudge?" Ella asked, clearly amused.

"They're cool too," Nudge replied dismissively. "Matt, Lucas, Gaz and Fang are awesome, and Jack seems nice for a junior, and Devon is cool even though he's kind of obnoxious, and Danny was really nice when I was passing with him, even though he's a senior and I'm only a freshman- and Ford," Nudge paused, smirking a little. "Ford is h-a-w-t!"

"Hawt?" I repeated, wrinkling my nose. "Why did you spell it like that?"

"It sounds better," Nudge answered airily. I opened my mouth to argue that her point didn't even make sense when she continued to speak. "He has that luscious brown hair, and those gorgeous hazel eyes, and he's so damn tall it makes him even hotter!"

"He's a goalie, Nudge," I reminded her, walking ahead of her and my sister as we walked out to the parking lot. "Ford should be freakishly tall." I didn't really put much thought into Nudge's babbling about Ford- I was learning that she preferred gushing about how hot a guy was rather than actually pursuing a relationship with one.

"Like Iggy," Nudge piped up slyly, nudging Ella in a completely un-subtle way. I rolled my eyes as my sister squealed in protest.

"Iggy is not freakishly tall!" Ella defended our blind, freakishly tall friend. I smirked at the thought. "Max, tell our delusional friend that Iggy is not freakishly tall!"

"Sorry Ells, I'm gonna have to agree with Nudgekins on this one," I sighed in mock regret. "Dear old Iggy is indeed very freakishly tall."

"I think his height is perfect," she replied haughtily. I whistled at her in reply, and she shoved me. "What?" she demanded defensively.

"Ella's got a crush on the Iggster!" I crowed, laughing at the expression on my sister's face. Ella clapped a hand over my mouth, her cheeks burning red.

"Shut up you twit, someone might hear you," she hissed, glancing around. Nudge giggled, skipping in circles around Ella.

"Iggy and Ella sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" Nudge sang. Ella kicked her, and Nudge yelped in pain. I snickered at her plight, only to get whacked painfully in the hip.

"Ow," I whined, clutching my hip. "That hurt!"

"Good! It was supposed to hurt!" Nudge shot back, hopping on one foot. Ella glared disdainfully at us, stalking off and jumping into the front seat of Mom's waiting car. I rolled my eyes, opening the back door and letting Nudge hop in before I followed. We were giving our dear, strange friend a ride home every day this week, because her parents didn't want her walking this late at night.

In seconds Nudge and Ella were no longer at odds, and were gushing at Mom about how painful practice had been with Anne. Mom smiled at us in her rearview mirror and concentrated on the road. "I did more than my fair share of DDs in my sports career," Mom admitted, turning down a street I hadn't been down before. I looked out the window at the dark streets, trying to see our surroundings.

"They're awful," Ella summarized emphatically, slumping back in her seat. "My legs are still burning!"

"Me too," Nudge agreed, wincing as she rubbed her quads. I touched a probing finger to my left calf, wincing as the muscle protested and started to ache dully. Sometimes, it's very easy to hate sports coaches.

"I still can't believe your coach is making you practice until nine o' clock," Mom sighed plaintively. "It's so dark out there!"

"Mom, there's stadium lights on the field," I reminded her, also for the hundredth time. "We're fine."

"Whatever you say, Max," Mom replied doubtfully.

Suddenly, the car stopped, and Nudge opened her door. "Thank you for the ride, Dr M!" she chirped, dragging her soccer bag outside and shutting the door.

"You're welcome, Nudge!" Mom replied cheerily, watching as Nudge ran up the walkway to her house. She waved at us briefly before disappearing inside the large white house. When Mom was sure Nudge was safely inside, she pulled away from the curb and headed for home.

I wasn't sure how I completed my homework that night; I kept yawning so loudly that I was sure my jaw was about to crack off. Ella obviously had the same problem, and she almost fell asleep over her history essay. Luckily, I was able to poke her awake, and she solved our sleepy problem by fixing two large cups of hot, caffeinated green tea. I smiled at her as she handed me the steaming cup. "Thanks Ells," I murmured, nursing the hot liquid. Ella nodded wordlessly, returning to her history assignments. We sat in companionable silence as we scribbled half-coherent answers on our homework.

I wouldn't be able to say whether I brushed my teeth that night. All I was focused on was getting to bed and falling asleep.

And that is exactly what I did.

**YAY! I kept my chapter-update-every-week streak running! Just to let you know, that doesn't mean I'll update this story every week; it means I'll update one of my stories every week.**

**Don't forget! Tell me your views on adding wings later, views on the new format (if it shows up) and how old you think I am! My friends aren't allowed to guess. XP REVIEW!**

**~TMI~**


	17. SUPER LONG Walk in the Park

**DEDICATED TO: Lilac Rose6 and dear Iggyfuls, who always manage to make me laugh in their reviews, along with Just Another Dove, who has been the epitome of amazing with reading my stories! ALSO, to ALL of my beautiful reviewers. You control a large chunk of my happiness, and a happy writer writes more! So reviews are obviously the answer to quick updates! Lolz.**

ZOMG lol! The other day my friend RoRo (Salute Horses check out her MR story!) and I were talking, and our conversation started like this.  
Ro; Oh, guess what?  
Me: What?  
Ro: I was texting with ADarkWingedForever's friend Roy- do you know Roy?  
Me: Yeah- oh, wait. Is he real?  
Ro: Yeah.  
Me: Nope, don't know him.  
XD Sadly, that's a perfectly acceptable and rational question among my friends. We have too many fictional minions.

And I was surprised at the response to the wings question- I thought you'd all want wings. XD Here's my question. Think from an author's point of view. What am I supposed to do once the soccer season's over? I have no idea. So I'm sorry if you don't like the wings idea, it's gonna happen. Not soon, but it will eventually. I promise though, I will try my hardest to keep this from being cliché. If you think it is, PLEASE tell me! I sincerely appreciate the feedback.

I don't like long ANs. =( LETS GET CRACKING WITH THE STORY!

FPOV  
"He is soooo hot!"

"But Fang's hotter!"

"I dunno, Ford is pretty smokin-"

"Fang IS and will ALWAYS be hotter than Ford!"

"You're so naive!"

"Look who's talking! You think Ford Weston is hotter than THE Fang Rianild!"

"I'm right!"

"No you're not! Think about it! Mentally compare their hotness!"

There was a slight pause.

"Okay, you're right," Ford's defender sighed. "Fang IS hotter than Ford."

Iggy stifled a snicker beside me, and I shoved him. Gazzy rolled his eyes at us, obviously bored. "When do you think we can make a break for it? My legs are cramping like crazy," Gaz whispered, trying not to be noticed by the two girls arguing approximately three feet away from us. They were discussing the 'drop dead gorgeous' quality of my 'beautiful, obsidian' eyes.

I wanted to retch.

Iggy seemed to think the whole thing was hilarious, which just irked me further. "Trust me, Gaz, I want to get out of here too," I whispered back. Iggy held back a snort as one of the girls started praising the 'lusciousness' of my apparently 'gleaming, inky black' hair. I sank back against the branches of the bush, hoping I would somehow disappear. Or better yet, the girls sitting on the bench across the path would disappear.

Didn't these girls have lives? Didn't they have anything better to do than discuss me for three hours? And yes, we had been listening to them talk about me, Ford, and some guy named Justin Bieber for that long. Three hours. One hundred and eighty minutes. Ten thousand, eight hundred seconds. Those were the most boring and cramped ten thousand eight hundred seconds of my life. And that is including the time Ria decided it would be fun to super glue pink rhinestones all over my favorite sneakers, French braid my hair (she's quite clever for a six-year-old) and force me to watch a Dora the Explorer marathon with her. I had thought that was agony. Now I knew the true meaning of the word. Even hearing praises sung to my every freaking physical attribute got boring after the first ten minutes.

It was Saturday afternoon, and Gazzy, Iggy and I had been walking around the park. After awhile, we had passed by these two girls, whom I vaguely recognized from school. They smiled and batted their eyelashes and raised their voices in an attempt, I assume, to get our attention. Iggy was about to go over and say hello to them like the true player he was, but suddenly, he stopped short. His blind, pale blue eyes widened, and he grabbed Gazzy and I roughly by the arms, towing us off the path and behind a tree. Gazzy and I wrenched our arms out of his grip, and Gazzy glared at Iggy. I simply rubbed my arm, wondering why Iggy always had to have such sharp fingernails.

"Dude! What was that for?" Gazzy hissed at Iggy.

"I recognize those girls," Iggy whispered back, his eyes wide with fear. "That's Kelsi and Jacki!"

Gazzy seemed to understand what Iggy meant by this, because his fingers immediately began nervously tapping against the tree. "Aww, dammit!" Gazzy closed his eyes.

"How could you even identify them?" I wanted to know. "You can't see them, Igs. And what's so bad about these girls anyway?"

Iggy and Gazzy shook their heads at my ignorance. "They're Kelsi and Jacki," Gazzy told me seriously, stressing the girls' names. I stared at him blankly.

"Also known as giggly, gossipy, highly dangerous freshman at our school," Iggy added. "They're two of the most popular girls in the grade! How did you not know them?"

"They are?" I asked, feeling slightly foolish. It wasn't like I was on top of the school gossip and social orders, okay? I have too much soccer to play to get involved with such crap.

"You're one of the most popular guys in our grade, Fang," Gazzy informed me, his voice slow and patient.

Now I truly felt like an idiotic preschooler. "I am?" I asked weakly.

Iggy and Gazzy nodded.

"Oh." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Wow, Fang. Sometimes I wonder why you haven't flunked out of school yet. You're so slow," Iggy complained. I rolled my eyes and smacked his arm.

"Back to the point. Why are Kelsi and Jacki so awful again?" I asked, hoping for a more helpful explanation. Iggy and Gazzy seemed to be desperate for a way to pound their idea through my head, and floundered silently for an example of Kelsi and Jacki's evilness.

"They're Lissa's best friends," Gazzy supplied finally.

My eyes darkened. "Oh."

"Yeah," Iggy snorted. "Get the picture now, Mr Popular?"

"Shut up," I muttered, smacking him again. "I still don't understand how you recognized them-"

"That's not important," Iggy interrupted, looking nervous. "We have to get out of here, fast!"

"Good idea," Gazzy agreed, glancing around the tree back to the path. "Let's ditch this-"

"Hi, boys!" a bright voice chirped. All of us flinched at once, slowly turning to face the speaker. She was about six inches shorter than me, five inches shorter than Gaz, and seven inches shorter than ggy. Altogether, we towered over the girl, but she didn't seem to notice. "I'm Kelsi, but you already know that!" Kelsi tittered, flipping her blonde ringlets.

I shifted uncomfortably.

"And I'm Jacki! You know me too! That's totally obvi!" Jacki popped up behind Kelsi, her own brown hair flying recklessly behind her. Kelsi and Jacki giggled in unison.

I glanced in alarm towards Iggy and Gazzy, who both had resigned expressions on their faces. "What does 'obvi' mean?" I muttered to Gazzy. He shrugged, as helpless with girl talk as I was.

"Hey, do you guys wanna hang with us? I'll call Lindsay and Miri and Parsi and Tammi..." Why do they all have names that end with 'ee' sounds? My mind wondered briefly, going off track. It was just another mystery of the girl world. None of the female friends I had had names ending with 'ee' though. It was a question to ponder in algebra when I was bored. I slowly tuned back into what Jacki was saying. She was still listing all the friends she could call, and they all had names ending with 'ee'. Was it some sort of cult? "...and Loli and Georgi and Matti and Lissi-" Jacki rambled on and on, pulling out a bright pink cell phone and flashing it under my nose. I stiffened at the mention of Lissa's name.

"No, that's okay," I cut Jacki off, praying that she would take the hint and pocket her cell phone. To my immense relief, she did.

"Yeah, we were just going, actually," Iggy picked up after me, his voice falsely cheery. Both girls pouted.

"Awww, you're no fun!" Kelsi complained, poking me in the chest. I showed no reaction, simply staring at her until she backed out of my personal space.

"Sorry ladies. Another time, maybe?" Gazzy apologized suavely (that suave boy).

Kelsi and Jacki instantly perked up. "Okay!" they agreed, skipping off to go do whatever creepy freshman girls did on the weekend.

"Phew. That was a close one," Iggy sighed, leading the way back onto the path. I nodded as I followed him and Gazzy back onto the dirt trail.

"We risked our lives back there," Gazzy agreed, discretely glancing around the trail to check on the whereabouts of Kelsi and Jacki. Thankfully, they were nowhere in sight. We started off down the trail again, talking avidly about soccer. Even though Iggy was now blind, (the thought still made my fingers tense a little) he had previously been a great midfielder and goalie, and we had played on the same team. In fact, he was such a great goalie that when his parents had called to say he had to quit, our coach didn't believe them when they explained he was now blind.

"Blind? No boy who plays goalie like that can be blind," Coach scoffed.

Iggy's mother had promptly burst into tears, and his dad had roared somehing unrepeatable at the coach. Needless to say, the poor guy felt awful when he saw Iggy, his eyes no longer bright and focused, but instead a washed out, faded blue.

Iggy's loud guffaws broke me out of my moody remembrances, and I had to smile at the sound. He never liked to dwell on his blindness, and I tried not to let it bother me, for Iggy's sake. He hated the fact that I was always worried about his blindness, which he always seemed to pick up on however much I tried to hide it.

"This is better," Gazzy announced after a little while. "No creepy freshman girls, just us talking soccer."

Unfortunately, Gazzy spoke too soon. About five minutes later, I caught a glimpse of blonde curls ducking out of sight, and immediately tensed up. Gazzy stopped walking, and looked at me quizzically. "What's wrong, Fang?" he asked, tugging Iggy to a stop.

I looked around more closely. There was no blonde freshman in sight. "Thought I just saw Kelsi," I muttered.

Gazzy shuddered dramatically. "Oh no, I hope not!" he said shrilly. Iggy laughed again, but I still felt uneasy. "Chill out Fang," Gazzy added. "We're in a park. Most likely, there will be people around. Some of them might even have blonde hair!" Gazzy pulled emphatically on his own short blond hair, and then on Iggy's. I nodded grudgingly, and he promptly continued to chatter on with Iggy about soccer. Neither of them were ever able to tire of the subject. I stayed quiet, on the lookout for either Kelsi or Jacki. I had the feeling they were the kind of girls who wouldn't take no for an answer.

Suddenly, I saw a glint of pink flashing in the corner of my eye, and whirled around just in time to see a hand clutching an ominously familiar pink cell phone duck behind an oak tree. I stared at the tree, but the person holding the phone did not reappear.

That was the last straw. "We're being stalked," I informed my friends abruptly, interrupting their discussion on the finer points of the Manchester United soccer team.

Gazzy raised an eyebrow at me, not breaking stride. "Where are our stalkers?" he asked casually, looking at Iggy. Iggy listened, his face the picture of concentration. Finally, he briefly inclined his head towards a tree behind us. It was the oak I had seen the pink cell phone disappear behind.

"They're over there," Iggy replied calmly. To any casual observer, there had been no change in our conversation. Gazzy had very quick instincts, I had my unemotional mask, and Iggy just never took anything seriously. We were the perfect team.

"Let's lose them," I murmured, picking up the pace. Gazzy and Iggy instantly sped up, until we were jogging instead of walking. I heard the clatter of footsteps behind us: most likely Kelsi and Jacki trying to follow us. "Faster."

We continued to speed up, going from jogging to running to sprinting, until our feet raised dust on the trail. Finally, I glanced behind us, and there was no trace of blonde curls or pink cell phones in sight. "We're good," I finally said, slowing down. Gazzy and Iggy halted along with me, neither looking winded in the least. Gazzy was in top condition from seven-days-a-week soccer, and Iggy was a born runner. That unexpected run had been no problem for any of us.

There was an old blue bench on one side of the trail, facing the other side. We all sat down on it, Gazzy helping Iggy find his way onto the bench. Once we were seated, Gazzy immediately began picking at the peeling blue paint covering the wood. It was a sort of strange habit of his that Gazzy's hands always had to be busy. He couldn't concentrate otherwise, unless he was playing soccer. As a result, Gazzy had gotten very good at disassembling random objects and putting them back together. He was always taking apart and rebuilding his pen in history, and the poor writing utensil was battered and shaky from the abuse. I was just glad there wasn't anything important for Gazzy to destroy right now- we had problems when he couldn't figure out how to fix things again.

Suddenly, Iggy stiffened, standing back up. I sighed, hoping he had just heard a squirrel and we didn't have to get up and run again.

Of course, we had no such luck. "I think they went this way!" Kelsi's voice squealed, none too subtly. I winced at the sound of her voice. Gazzy rolled his eyes and stood up reluctantly, his fingernails now full of shreds of dried blue paint.

"Let's just hide until they pass," Iggy suggested. "Any good place nearby?"

"There's a bush right there," I pointed out. Gazzy grabbed Iggy's arm, towing him over to the bush. The large shrub was directly opposite the bench on the other side of the trail, so we had plenty of time to hunker down amid the plant. Its leafy branches formed a hollow dome that was just big enough for us to crouch comfortably inside. It effectively surrounded all three of us, shielding us from sight. This bush was the perfect hiding spot.

Almost as soon as we were settled in, there were loud footsteps on the path. Gazzy and I peered through small cracks in the bush, catching glimpses of the girls' feet. They stopped in the middle of the path, pointed towards our bush. Gazzy and I held our breath, and Iggy took the hint, quieting his own breathing.

Finally, there was a loud sigh, and one pair of feet marched over towards the bench we had just been sitting on. "They're gone, Kelse. Let's just sit here and talk for awhile instead!"

Kelsi's feet followed Jacki's towards the bench, and Kelsi sat down next to her friend. "Okay Jacki," she agreed. "Whatcha want to talk about?"

"What do you think?" Jacki asked, her voice almost sickeningly bubbly. These girls were too happy. It was messing with my vibe.

"Guys!" Kelsi guessed, giggling like a lunatic.

"Yeah! Totally!"

"Ooh! So you know how we talked to Gazzy and Iggy and Fang earlier?" Kelsi asked her friend.

Jacki sighed dreamily. "How could I forget?"

Iggy snickered beside me, and Gazzy and I promptly shoved him in an attempt to shut him up. Thankfully, it worked.

"I poked Fang on the chest!" Kelsi squealed excitedly, sounding as if she had won the lottery. I glanced at Gazzy, who was looking like he was about to explode with laughter. I prayed that he could keep it in, and sent him my best death glare.

Apparently, Jacki thought poking me in the chest was a very admirable thing to do, because she squealed even louder than Kelsi had. "OMG! Does he really have a six pack?" she asked in a reverent tone.

Is this really what girls talk about when there aren't any guys around? If I have a six pack or not?

"I couldn't really tell," Kelsi admitted. "But his stomach is like, rock hard! I swear I bruised my finger on it!"

"OMG!" Jacki shrieked.

This was getting too weird for me. Glancing around, I tried to find a way to get out of the bush and away from Kelsi and Jacki without being seen. My stomach began to clench as I realized the horrible truth. Although I searched frantically, there was no way out. We were in plain view of the girls, and they would surely spot us if we tried to escape, or even get out of our bush hiding spot. This apparently had occured to Gazzy too, who was looking at me with a panic-stricken face. How long would we have to sit here to wait for them to leave?

Three hours was the correct answer. Which brings us to this point in time.

My legs ached from being in one position so long, and my back was starting to hurt too. Gazzy and Iggy were probably experiencing the same things, and neither looked very happy. "'Let's hide in the bush!'" Gazzy hissed, perfectly mimicking my voice with that creepy talent of his. "What a great idea, Fang!"

"Shut up," I muttered back. Gazzy continued to whisper-rant about my stupidity and how he couldn't believe that Kelsi and Jacki could possibly discuss me, of all people, for three whole hours. I closed my eyes, hoping the solution to our situation would somehow drop out of the sky.

Which, actually, it did.

Abruptly, a black and silver soccer ball broke through the top branches of our hiding shrub, plopping down into my lap. I looked at it in surprise, wondering where the ball had come from.

The answer was obvious. We were in a park, after all. It was perfectly reasonable that some kid had launched his soccer ball into the bush. In fact, he was probably coming to get it right now. I hurriedly pushed the ball off my lap and towards the edge of the bush, hoping the kid wouldn't see us when he came to retrieve it. Gazzy and I stared at the spot where the ball lay, and we all held our breath, praying that we wouldn't be discovered.

Kelsi and Jacki's conversation had finally switched topics from me. They had began to speculate on the sudden appearance of the ball that crash-landed in our hiding shrub. "OMG Kelsi! Did you see that? It like, rocketed over our heads! Have you ever seen a soccer ball fly that fast?"

"No, Jacki, I haven't!" Kelsi declared. "Do you think we should go get it?"

"I don't know," Jacki replied uncertainly. "There might be a wild animal in the bush!"

"The only wild animal is my stomach," Iggy grumbled quietly. I elbowed him to get him to shut up, straining my ears to hear if either of the girls had come to investigate the soccer ball's landing site. Thankfully, neither did, and they resumed their discussion on my eyelashes.

I continued to stare at the soccer ball, hoping that the owner would come and collect it already. Finally, someone came walking over to the bush. Their footsteps were lighter than Kelsi's or Jacki's, and they made hardly any noise on the gravelly dirt. I stared at the space just above the soccer ball, envisioning some little kid's surprised face. Would they believe me if I said we were playing hide and seek, and needed them to pretend we weren't in the bush? I wasn't sure.

The footsteps drew closer, and we stopped breathing all together. Finally, the outer branches of our hiding shrub rustled, and I braced myself, huddling into a smaller ball. Hopefully, the kid wouldn't see us. Hopefully...

Two arms popped inside, fearless of any 'wild animal' that might be hiding within. The hands reached further in, scrabbling about until they closed around the soccer ball. I stared at them. The hands were too big for a little kid's, and they seemed strangely familiar.

Suddenly, the person's grip on the soccer ball slipped, and the ball spun away from them, bumping against my shin. The person grunted in frustration, and reached further in. Their long fingers almost scraped my knee, and I fought the urge to screw my eyes shut. That wouldn't help at all. In fact, it would probably make the situation even worse.

The hands probed in the bush for awhile, futilely searching for their soccer ball. Finally, the owner of the soccer ball pulled back their hands, and proceeded to shove aside some of the hiding shrub's branches. The person popped their head in, and finally spotted the soccer ball. She smiled, and reached for it, only to realize that it was sitting next to my legs. She looked quickly up, meeting my eyes in evident shock.

"Fang?" she asked, her brown eyes wide.

"Hi, Max," I murmured weakly, too surprised to say anything else.

MPOV

This morning, Nudge, Terra, and Ella had somehow wrangled me out of my nice, comfortable bed. Then they proceeded to drag me to my closet, and dress me in cut-off jean shorts, a tight black tank top, and black sneakers. After practically forcing me into the chosen clothing, they dragged me into the bathroom and each took up a station. Terra grabbed my brush off the counter and started combing through the tangled mess I sometimes deem worthy to call my hair. I pitied the poor girl. My hair was the tricky kind that re-knots itself every five minutes, and it was never fun to brush out. While Terra slaved away on my hair, Nudge picked out some sort of jewelry for me to wear, and Ella attempted to apply various makeup to my twitching face. I was still half-asleep, or else I would have put up more of a fight. Only once I was downstairs inhaling a cup of hot tea did I wake up enough to realize what the girls I called my friends had done to me.

Terra had somehow managed to make my ever-unruly hair silky and shiny, and scooped it up into s high ponytail that I, surprisingly, had no objection with. In fact, I liked the hairstyle so much that I actually considered asking her to show me how to do it myself. Then I almost faceplanted into my tea, and shook my head to try and get rid of my sleepiness. It didn't work.

Ella had gone overboard with the makeup, given that I was not fully awake to argue. My eyelids were coated in shimmering green stuff that I vaguely assumed was eyeshadow, Andy could practically feel the eyeliner she had applied. Likewise, my lashes were positively soaked in mascara. I growled at her in protest, but my devil sister just smiled sweetly back.

Nudge had managed to loop a silver chain around my neck without me noticing. It carried a sparkling silver star engraved with moons, swirls, and smaller stars. Nudge had also managed to clasp several silver bangles around my left wrist, and a few green ones around my right. When I turned my head, I could feel the earrings she had picked out knocking against my head. They were bundles of inch-long silver rods, each with a black or white star suspended at the end. While jewelry certainly wasn't my scene, I wasn't altogether horrified by Nudge's choices. Although, in my opinion, this getup was too fancy for going to the mall, and then the park.

I was still only half-conscious as we went out to the driveway and piled into our car. Mom came out of the house soon after, humming as she opened her door and sat down in the driver's seat. I was squished in between Terra and Ella, my head resting on my sister's shoulder. Ella thankfully didn't comment as I slowly fell back asleep on her shoulder.

All too soon, I was shaken awake in the mall parking lot, and Nudge and Terra were giggling mercilessly. "Good, you didn't drool on me," Ella remarked, inspecting her shoulder. I rolled my eyes and stumbled out of the car, blindly following my friends towards the mall.

"Bye girls! Have fun!" Mom called after us as she left the parking lot. Terra, Nudge, and Ella waved at her, but I was too busy concentrating on walking to do the same. Why was I so tired today? I didn't know.

Honestly, I don't really remember much of the mall trip. Shopping sprees are all the same to me, basically. I wander aimlessly around stores, usually not finding anything I like. In the rare occasion I do want to get something, I'll buy it, then spend another twenty five minutes following Ella and the other people on the trip as they proceed to look through the entire store inventory. They end up buying lots of stuff, and somehow I'll end up carrying most of it. Eventually, I'll complain I'm getting hungry, and we'll stop to eat something.

This was what we were doing now. Ella had ordered for me at the Corn Doggiest counter, seeing as I was still incoherent to most humans at that moment in time. After we had all ordered, we looked around for a place to sit down in the crowded food court.

Well, more correctly, my friends and Ella looked for a place to sit. I was too busy trying to keep my eyes open at all.

Finally, Nudge and Terra spotted an empty table, and dragged Ella and I over to it. I was forcibly sat down on the plastic bench, and I stared blankly at the table, slightly bewildered, but too tired to do anything. Even my morning tea had failed to wake me up. It was 12:30, yet my eyes were still heavy with sleep and unnecessary makeup.

My stomach growled loudly, but I was too busy trying to make my arms into a good pillow to be embarrassed.i was just about to fall back asleep when-

"Ma-ax," Ella sang, plopping down next to me on the plastic seats. I grunted in response, my eyes still closed. "Look what I've got for you!"

Grudgingly, I peeled one eye open to glance at my sister. She held a large lemonade in one hand, and a tray of fries and a corn dog in the other.

Instantly, I sprang up and grabbed both items from her. Ella simply laughed, watching as I picked up the corn dog and took a huge bite.

Mmm... That was good. I now felt wide awake. Wait a second- that's why I had been so tired! "You didn't feed me this morning!" I accused Ella, looking up from inhaling my corn dog. She stopped, a bite of her chow mein halfway on its journey to her mouth.

"Sorry Max, I forgot to get your kibble at the store yesterday," Ella teased. I rolled my eyes at her, continuing to eat my delicious food.

"We gave you tea," Terra pointed out.

"Tea is not enough to sustain Maximum Ride," I replied airily. "You should know that, young Terra."

Terra rolled her eyes, choosing not to respond. Instead, she bit a monstrous piece off of her cheeseburger. That girl had skill.

We ate in silence for a little while. Well, what was categorized as silence between our friends. This meant no one was talking but Nudge, who pretty much qualified as background music, since she was always talking. Even now, Nudge chattered on and on between bites of her chicken salad. "ZOMG so you know how we went into that adorable little boutique like half an hour ago, and there was that bee-yoo-tee-ful charm necklace on display? Well I was really sad I couldn't get it 'cause it was too expensive but the good thing is that I saw almost an exact replica of it at Claire's, for only, like, twelve dollars! I mean, it's probably not real silver like that one in the boutique was but it's just as cute! So we have to go into Claire's later and get it. I don't care what age group Claire's is, I'm getting that necklace! And Ella, I loooove those new boots you got at Bella Lola, they were like, way too adorable to pass up in this lifetime! And they'll go perfectly with those jeans and that cute tank top you got at Fierella! ZOMG, I can imagine that outfit! You have to borrow my blue heart necklace if you wear that, okay? Yay!"

Most of Nudge's rants were along those lines during our lunch break. She couldn't stop gushing about anything we had purchased, tried on, or even seen earlier. Eventually, we finished our meals and got up. I picked most of our bags, and Ella and Terra handled the rest. Nudge was too excited to carry anything, simply bouncing along in front of us. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for more shopping, and followed my overly enthusiastic friends towards yet another boutique.

It was three thirty when we finally exited the last store. "I think I'm broke," Nudge announced, a huge smile on her face. "But I have tons of adorable new outfits now! I'll just have to babysit Ria and Angel a lot now until I build up my money supply again!"

I collapsed onto a bench, my arms almost giving out with the weight of the bags on them. "You bought half of every store, Nudge," I groaned.

Nudge beamed at me, bouncing up and down on her toes. "Have I ever told you how much I love you, Max?" Nudge asked. Suddenly, she ran over and hugged me, practically cracking my ribs. I wheezed, trying to breathe, as she finally released me and started bouncing around again.

Ella had her cell phone out, and she started dialing a number onto it. "I'm gonna call Mom," she explained. "She can drive us home so we can drop off our stuff, and then we can hit the park!"

Terra and Nudge cheered, and I smiled weakly. The park sounded like a great idea after such a strenuous activity like shopping. Parks are calming.

When Mom drove up, we were standing outside the mall amid piles of baggage. Mom looked shocked at the amount of stuff we had gotten, but didn't comment. After we had managed to stuff everything in the back, we piled into the car and set off. "So," Mom began, looking back at us in her rearview mirror. "Fun shopping spree?"

"Totally!" Terra replied, her eyes sparkling. Nudge nodded vigorously, and proceeded to tell Mom every last detail of our trip.

Surprisingly, Mom's ears didn't spontaneously combust. "That's great, Nudge!" she said after Nudge had finished her rant. "I'm glad you had such a great time. Now, I think I'll just drop you girls off at the park, and take your stuff home for you. The park is close enough that you can walk back to our house, right?"

We all nodded, and Mom continued to drive. "I'll probably have dinner ready by six thirty," she added. "And then you girls can work out your sleeping arrangements."

That's right. Because Ella had convinced our mother to let us have a sleepover with both Terra and Nudge. She has mad persuasive skills.

"Thank you for the ride, Dr Martinez!" Nudge and Terra chorused when we got to the park. Mom smiled at both of them before driving off back to our house.

"So. What do you want to do?" Ella asked as we started walking into the park.

I smiled at her, and whipped something out from behind my back. "This!" Proudly positioned on the tips of my fingers was my beautiful, silver and black soccer ball.

Nudge whooped, instantly changing from girly-girl shopaholic into warrior soccer player. She promptly headed the ball out of my fingers, settled it under her right foot, and sprinted down the path, dribbling my soccer ball away from us. I yelled at her, sprinting to follow the ball-thief.

I soon caught up with Nudge, and she tried to shield the ball from me. Foolish girl. I will steal that ball back if it's the last thing I do. Faking to the left, I swiftly cut to Nudge's right and kicked the ball out from under her feet. "Hey!" she yelped, struggling to stay standing. I flashed her a grin, dribbling quickly towards one of the park soccer fields.

Soneone cut in front of me suddenly, catching me by surprise. The new ball thief neatly Maradona-ed over my soccer ball before running off down the edge of the field. I scowled as I realized that the ball thief was none other than Ella Louise Martinez, my own sister.

How dare she!

Nudge, Ella and I ran around the field for awhile, shoving and faking each other out. Terra stood at one of the sidelines, whooping and egging us on. Terra didn't really play soccer, but she was a very enthusiastic cheerer.

At one point, I had the ball, and Nudge and Ella were both running at me. I put a look of concentration on my face, and lunged towards the left, as if I was going to try to bolt around Ella. Both Ella and Nudge stepped to the left to block me, and lightning-fast, I twirled a Maradona to the right directly past Nudge. Nudge tried to stop and follow me, but only succeeded in falling over. Ella stopped to help Nudge up, and I halted, grinning, my foot on the ball. "Nice juke, Max!" Nudge squealed, popping up off the grass.

"Thanks," I replied, unable to stop smiling. That had been a fun juke.

"What's a juke?" Terra asked. She had run over when Nudge fell down, and was now bouncing excitedly on her toes.

"A juke is like a fake," Ella explained. "It's when you fool someone into thinking you're going to do one thing, and then you do another."

"Like faking left and going right," I chimed in, smirking. Nudge swatted at me, but I dodged her blow.

"You midfielders are all the same!" Nudge proclaimed. "Arrogant, cocky gits who have no care for the hard work of the defense!"

"Yeah!" Ella agreed.

I rolled my eyes. Ella played stopper, and Nudge played sweeper and stopper. They just didn't appreciate all the running midfielders had to do.

Suddenly, Terra sprinted across the field. Nudge, Ella and I watched in confusion as she suddenly halted at the other sideline and turned around.

Terra danced wildly on the other side of the field. "Max! Max! Over heeeerreeeee!" Terra shrieked, waving her arms around in an attempt to get my attention. I smiled at her actions, stepping back and kicking the ball up into the air in her direction. Terra's eyes widened dramatically, and she squealed in fear as the ball dropped gracefully to the turf. It landed on the field no more than two feet in front of her, gently bouncing on the smooth grass.

Terra continued to shriek as if the ball was rocketing towards her face. Instead of decapitating her, it slowly rolled over and tapped against her foot. Terra glanced hesitantly down at it. She stopped shrieking, and smiled confidently. "I did it! I got the ball!" she squealed, happy once more. I had to laugh as Terra performed her victory dance. That girl had no shame.

We passed the ball around for a little longer, until we got too tired to keep running all over the field. Terra plopped down on the grass and gazed up at the sky, and Nudge and Ella sat down next to her. I stayed standing, gently tapping the ball with my feet and doing short technique drills one of my old coaches had taught me.

"So, Max," Nudge drawled. I glanced at her briefly, then put my gaze back on the ball as I started another technique drill. Left, right, inside, outside, outside, inside... "Are you ready to admit your undying love for Fang?"

Suddenly, I lost my balance and slipped over the ball in between my feet. This caused me to fall, flailing wildly, to the grass. Ella and Terra giggled, but I scowled back at them. "Why can't you guys accept that Fang and I are besties, and nothing more?"

"You make besties quickly, Max," Terra observed, smirking wickedly.

"No she doesn't," Ella disagreed. "She never makes friends  
quickly, let alone best friends. Fang is specciialll!" My so-called  
friends giggled wildly. I continued to scowl.

"And Fang talks so much more whenever you're around, and he's been smiling a lot more since you guys came to town," Nudge added, smiling in a very terrifying way. "And you get mad when girls start gushing over how hot he is, and he lets you hug him!" I growled at Nudge, interrupting her totally untrue speech. She just giggled yet again.

Suddenly, I stood up again, dribbling the ball towards my seated friends. I wove in between them, pulling moves in the foot of space dividing Ella and Terra. They squealed in protest at this treatment. "Max! You're gonna kick our heads in!" Nudge yelled, trying to back away. I faked a kick towards Nudge, making her shriek, before Croifing the ball and turning to face my dear sister. I faked my way around Ella, pulling the ball forward with the bottom of my left foot before shooting it to my right. I knew that this kind of ball play always irritated Ella, and I sinfully enjoyed every second her frustration showed on her face. The girl deserved it. Presently, she had no right to call herself my sister. Sisters were supposed to stick together, and defend one another in times of need! But when Nudge had started teasing me relentlessly about Fang's every freaking move, she just giggled and said nothing.

Some sister she was. I was disowning her as soon as possible.

Abruptly, I pulled my foot back and pegged Ella squarely in the back with the soccer ball. "Ow!" she yelped, standing up and rubbing her back.

"Don't mock me," I snapped.

"Jeez, Max, chill out," Terra soothed, coming over and lacing an arm around my shoulders. I tried to shrug her off, but she was firmly latched on. "We're just teasing."

"I don't like teasing," I retorted, snapping the ball into Terra's shin. She yelped too, letting go of my shoulders. Surprisingly, she still had a smile on her face.

"Come on, don't kill us for saying the truth," Terra sang. I narrowed my eyes, and was about to kick the ball straight into her face when Nudge distracted me.

"Look! They put a goal out!" Nudge chirped, effectively turning my attention towards the goal now standing at one end of the field. "Cool! Let's go shoot! I'll be goalie for a bit, cause I used to play goalie and I was okay at it!"

Nudge set herself up in goal, and Ella placed the ball on the penalty spot in the goal box. Without warning, Ella ran forward and kicked the ball off the grass, sending it flying through the air. Nudge lunged to the left, and surprisingly, caught the ball. "Wow Nudge, that was pretty cool!" Terra exclaimed.

"Thanks!" Nudge replied, smiling as she tossed the ball to me. I set it down on the penalty spot again, studying the silver swirls lacing the black ball. I loved this soccer ball- it was just so pretty.

Without another thought, I took three steps forward and slammed my left foot into the ball. Nudge lunged, but couldn't quite catch my shot. The ball hit the back of the net and slid down, evoking a smile from me. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love the sound of the ball sliding on the net. It's truly amazing. Someone should write poetry on that sound.

We took turns shooting for awhile, and even Terra took a few shots. Ella and Nudge switched off playing goalie, as I'm completely awful at that position. Finally, Nudge called, "One more shot, and then we're doing something else!"

"Fine," I complied. "I'm taking the shot though." Nudge nodded, and I set the ball back down on the penalty spot.

Just as I was focusing on the net, Nudge yelled, "DO IT FOR FANG, MAXIMUM!"

I swear I saw red for a moment, I was so pissed at her. I yelled something unintelligible back at Nudge before racing my three steps and kicking the ball with all my strength. The black and silver sphere flew off the grass and over the goal, soaring over all the trees in the clear blue sky. We watched as it grew smaller and smaller, and finally fell back down into the trees.

Nudge, Ella and Terra turned to gawk at me. I glared defiantly back. "What?" I snapped defensively.

"That was the best kick I've ever seen you do, Max!" Ella squealed jumping up and down. "Did you see how far it went?"

"We'll have to tease you about Fang during our games!" Nudge added, grinning impishly. I shot her a death glare, which unfortunately only made her smile grow.

"Let's go find where you kicked that poor ball, Max," Terra suggested. I grunted in agreement, and we set off without another word.

Nudge and Ella each checked one side of the path, and Terra had climbed a tree to see if the ball had gotten stuck in a branch somewhere. I ran ahead, giving everywhere a quick once-over. Finally, after about ten minutes, I came upon these two girls sitting on a bench at the path's side. I was about to ask them if they'd seen a silver and black soccer ball fly by, when I spotted something dark inside the bush directly across the trail from them. Smiling slightly, I walked down the path and towards the bush.

There it was! I could see the silver swirls clearly through the branches. I stuck my hands inside the bush, weaving around the thick branches screening the whole plant. Hopefully there wouldn't be a raccoon or something that would try to gnaw my hands off. It didn't worry me too much, though. I could still play soccer with no hands. Someone else would just have to take throw ins.

My fingers closed on the soccer ball, but slipped off. I tried to grab it before it rolled deeper into the bush, but the ball was too dang slippery. Sighing impatiently, I retracted my hands, smoothing the hair that had fallen out of my ponytail behind my ears. Of course, it promptly slipped right back into my eyes. Frustrated, I let the hair fall where it pleased, and started dividing the shrub's branches so I could peer inside and find the ball.

I thrust my head inside the bush, regardless of the leaves falling into my hair. There! I finally saw my soccer ball clearly. Moving aside another branch, I reached in to grab it, when I realized there was a pair of legs folded next to the ball. Alarmed, I looked up, only to be met with the dark eyes of my new best friend.

"Fang?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

"Hi Max," he murmured, staring straight in my eyes. He looked just as surprised as I felt. "Umm, what's up?" he offered weakly.

"Why are you in a bush?" I demanded bluntly.

My question was met with three voices hissing, "Shhh!"

Startled, I looked over and saw Iggy and Gazzy sitting next to Fang. "Why are you all in a bush together?" I whispered. Suddenly, a thought occured to me, and I grinned at them suggestively. "Wow guys. I didn't know you rolled like that! I won't judge you or anything, but seriously? You chose a shrub as your hide away?"

Iggy's pale eyes widened, and he shook his head furiously. "We're not gay!" he hissed. "We're hiding from those girls over there!" Iggy jerked his head in the direction of the girls I had seen on the bench.

"Why?" I asked.

"Just listen to them," Gazzy ordered. We fell silent, just in time to hear the girls erupt in giggles.

"So they're giggly. What about it?" I demanded, still utterly confused.

Gazzy shushed me again, and I heard one of the girls squeal, "OMG I just loooove Fang's eyes! They're so beautiful!"

"I know, right?" the other girl agreed, sighing happily. "I wish I could just stare into them all day!"

My eyes darkened. "I understand," I muttered. Iggy and Gazzy nodded, looking mildly disgusted. Fang actually seemed slightly embarrassed.

"Can you distract them so we can get away?" Gazzy pleaded. "We've been hiding here forever! If we come out, they'll pounce on us."

"You want me to risk my life for yours?" I clarified. Gazzy and Iggy nodded. Fang just closed his eyes, his face expressionless. "I can't talk to them! They'll kill me," I declared.

"Please!" Iggy begged.

"Well..." I thought about it, then came to a better conclusion. "I'll get Nudge, Terra, and Ells to do it."

"They're here too?" Gazzy asked, surprised.

I nodded. "They'll be better at distracting them, anyway. I'll be right back!"

Taking my soccer ball, I extracted myself from the bush and ran back down the path. After a few minutes of running, I met back up with my friends. They were still searching around in the shrubbery for the ball. "You found it!" Nudge cheered when she saw the object in my hand.

"Yeah, and guess where it was?" I didn't wait for them to guess. "Inside a bush, with Fang, Gazzy, and Iggy!"

Terra's eyebrows rose so high the corners disappeared into her long blonde side bangs. "Gazzy, Fang and Iggy were all in a bush together?" she asked, skeptical. I nodded.

"I didn't know they rolled like that, but I won't judge," Ella remarked.

I grinned at her. "Great minds think alike!"

"And then, there's ours," she finished, a smile on her own lips. "So where are the guys now?"

"Still in the bush," I replied. Ella looked confused, so I quickly explained the boys' situation to all three of our friends. At the end of my explanation, Nudge giggled.

"They can't deal with two girls? I thought our dear manly friends were supposed to be all strong and kick-butt!" Nudge exclaimed.

I shrugged. "I'm just their messenger. Ask them for their full story."

"So what are we supposed to do about it?" Terra asked.

"They're begging for us to distract the girls while they make a get away," I explained.

Ella snickered, raising an eyebrow. "They're begging?"

"Begging," I confirmed, nodding.

"Let's help the poor babies then," Terra decided, already bouncing off down the trail. We followed her, and after a few minutes we were back at the soccer ball's landing site. Nudge groaned beside me, and I glanced at her questioningly.

"You didn't say the girls were Jacki and Kelsi!" Nudge hissed at me. "That totally changes things. I feel bad for the guys now."

"What's so bad about them? And who are they anyway?" I asked, confused.

"They're Jacki and Kelsi!" Terra whispered furiously. I stared at her blankly. "Queen bees of the freshman class!"

"Okay then," I murmured. How was I supposed to know that? I had only gone to Cromwell for a few weeks- I didn't have the social standings memorized! I didn't even recognize the girls to start with. "Well, can you go distract them while I go escort the guys away?"

Ella sighed. "Fine," she muttered, striding purposefully towards the girls on the bench. Terra and Nudge obediently followed her, and I quickly ran back over to the boys' hiding spot.

"Guys?" I hissed, getting down on my knees and looking back inside the bush. Gazzy's face popped out of the gap I had made earlier, and he nodded silently. "Kay, Ella, Terra and Nudge are distracting those girls as we speak," I whispered. "You guys jump out and run when I say go. Okay?"

"Sure," Gazzy whispered back, his blond head disappearing back inside the bush. I crouched beside the large shrub, looking over to watch my friends interacting with the Bench Girls.

"Hi!" Ella squealed at them, sending her bubbliness up six notches. The Bench Girls looked at her, and smiled faintly. "I'm Ella Martinez! You're Kelsi and Jacki, right? OMG I love your shoes, Jacki! Where'd you get them?"

Immediately, Jacki's face was wreathed in smiles. "Thanks for noticing, Emma!" she gushed back.

"Ella," my sister corrected her.

"Right, sorry! But thanks! I got them mailed in from Chic Boutique in Paris!" Jacki told her proudly. Ella let her jaw drop.

"No way!" Ella shrieked. "That's so cool! I love Paris! And French clothing is always soooo fashionable!"

"I know, right?" Jacki smiled at my sister. Ella slowly edged over so she was standing behind the bench, and the Bench Girls turned to face her. Now they had their backs to me and the hiding bush, and my friends had them thoroughly occupied. Nudge was chatting up a storm about Jacki's hair and Kelsi's tank top and Jacki's skirt and Kelsi's barr-freaking-ettes... That girl never ran out of conversation topics.

"Go!" I hissed, pulling the branches of the hiding bush back. Gazzy rocketed out, running through the trees towards the soccer field.

"Did you hear something?" Kelsi asked Terra, starting to turn around. Hurriedly, Terra grabbed the strap of her shoulder bag, which happened to be on the side Kelsi was turning. Terra effectively yanked her back the other way.

"Where'd you get this bag?" she asked, ignoring Kelsi's question. "It's totally adorable!"

"Go," I repeated. Iggy hurdled over the lower branches of the bush, following Gazzy's trail through the trees. He was out of sight within seconds. Wow. For being blind, Iggy was a fast runner.

And he didn't crash into any trees. That would have been bad. Entertaining, but bad.

Kelsi tried to turn around again. "I swear, Tetra-"

"It's Terra," Terra cut in, looking slightly annoyed.

"Right. But I could've sworn that there's something moving behind me!" Kelsi complained.

"Oh, it's just your imagination," Terra assured her airily. "Maybe a squirrel or something."

"Maybe," Kelsi replied, sounding unconvinced. Terra immediately started babbling on about something fashion-related, and Kelsi appeared to be absorbed once more.

I kept my eyes on her before hissing, "Go!" at Fang.

Fang was the last escapee from the bush, and he barely made any noise as he extracted himself from the plant. However, before he could go two paces, Kelsi whirled around. "I knew it!" she giggled, walking towards us. "Fang! Just the man I wanted to see!" Jacki turned around, squealing happily when she spotted Fang.

"Man?" I muttered, fighting off a scowl. Fang managed to keep his bored, unemotional mask intact, but I detected the tiniest traces of a smile at the corners of his lips.

"I'm very manly, you know," Fang murmured back, taking a step in the direction Gazzy and Iggy had fled. I snorted in response to his comment, but my mind was working fast. How could we get Kelsi and Jacki to leave Fang alone?

"You better not disturb him," Nudge cautioned Kelsi suddenly. "Fang gets upset when he's interrupted on a date."

_DATE?_

"Yeah," Ella chimed in. "And he's _especially_ upset when his dates with Max are interrupted."

My jaw was about to hit the ground from their outrageous lying, when suddenly Fang wrapped an arm around me, pulling me against his chest. I fought the urge to squirm away in embarrassment, my eyes huge as I looked from my sister to Nudge to Jacki and Kelsi. "Right," Fang near-growled at the Bench Girls. "I'd like it if you left Max and I alone, girls."

I could feel the vibrations of Fang's voice reverberating through his chest. The sound hummed against my back, which was currently pressed against said boy's chest. It felt oddly soothing, and slightly distracting.

I tried valiantly to act like none of this whole fairy tale was news to me, and for good measure laid my hands possessively over Fang's arms, which were wrapped around my waist. I narrowed my eyes at the Bench Girls, who were unabashedly staring at Fang and I. "I agree with Fang," I said pointedly, my voice overly sweet. To prove my point, I nestled my head into Fang's shoulder.

"Fine," Kelsi finally said, her voice sounding slightly strangled. "Come on Jacki, let's go." And with that, the Bench Girls strode haughtily away. I watched them go, not feeling in any hurry to leave Fang's arms. It was strangely comforting to have them wrapped around me like I was made to fit into his grasp. Fang didn't move either, and we stood in a sort of daze for a moment. Then a giggle broke me out of my reverie, and I hurriedly brushed Fang's arms away, stepping further away from him as I did so. I glared at the source of the giggle, which happened to be Ella, but she just smiled back.

"Well," I broke the awkward silence, clearing my throat. "That was..." I couldn't think of a word to describe the scene. Fang and I had pretended to be on a date in order to shake creepy freshman girl stalkers off his trail. That definitely doesn't happen everyday.

"PERFECT!" Nudge finishes for me, looking far too excited to be considered normal.

"That wasn't exactly the word I was looking for," Fang murmured. I looked at him and nodded emphatically. At least we were still on the same wave length.

"It was perfect!" Nudge insisted. "Ah, that was beautiful." She fell silent for a moment, but within five seconds she was talking again. "ZOMG that was fun. Well, we'd better go find where Igs and Gazzy scampered off to! Let's go!" Nudge flounced off towards the soccer field, where we all knew Gazzy would have gone. Giggling suspiciously Ella and Terra followed her. I glanced at Fang warily, wondering what was up, but he seemed to be confused also.

I started to follow after the girls, but Ella whirled around, holding her hand up in the universal signal for 'stop'!

"What's wrong, Ells?" I asked. "Aren't we going to look for Gazzy and Iggy?"

Ella shook her head. "No. _we_ are," she corrected, gesturing towards herself, Nudge, and Terra. "You guys are on a date, remember?"

My jaw really did drop this time. "Ella Louise Martinez! That was a lie you and Nudge concocted to get those girls away from Fang! It isn't actually happening!"

Ella shushed me, looking around dramatically. "The trees have ears, Maximum," she whispered solemnly. "And you have to stay in character! What if those girls come back, and they don't see Fang on a date anymore?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but after a moment, closed it. First and foremost, Fang was my bestie now. You don't just let your bestie get eaten alive by killer freshman girls. It was unethical.

I sighed in defeat. Ella smiled at me, before following Terra and Nudge and leaving us alone. I turned to Fang. "Fine. Come on Fangles, we're on a date now. Yippee."

Fang smirked at me, looking suddenly ominous. "Oh really? Do I get to kiss you goodnight now?" he teased.

I jutted out my bottom lip in a sort of whiny pout. "Nope," I declared. "'Cause kissing is icky."

"I concur," Fang snickered, showing an uncharacteristic amount of feeling. I rolled my eyes at him as a way of response.

"What do you want to do?" I asked a few minutes later. Fang raised an eyebrow at me. "What?" I demanded. Fang sighed, and without another word, he rammed the soccer ball out of my hands, and was dribbling it quickly down the path. "Hey!" I yelped, sprinting after him. "Gimme that back!"

So Fang and I being Fang and I, we spent the rest of our 'date' playing soccer. It was just like we always did, which was a relief. I didn't want Fang getting those ridiculous romantic ideas in his head. That would ruin everything.

At six forty five, I suddenly remembered I had to be home for dinner- fifteen minutes ago. "Crap!" I yelled, causing Fang to stop mid-juke.

He raised an eyebrow at me, as if to say, 'what the h-e-double hockey sticks is wrong with you?'

"I was supposed to be back for dinner at six thirty, which was fifteen minutes ago," I explained hurriedly, stealing the ball away from him and scooping it into my hands. Fang nodded, and without another word, was at my side as I started jogging out of the park. I glanced at him questioningly, and he actually smiled back for a half-second.

"What kind of a date would I be if I didn't walk you home?" he asked simply. I snorted, rolling my eyes as I sped up. Fang kept pace with me easily, and I fought the urge to pull up all stops and sprint. What can I say? I'm a very competitive girl. I don't like it when people can keep up with me.

After about five minutes of running, we reached my house, and slowed down. Fang eyed the front of my blue house, smirking to himself, as if he had a special secret concerning my home.

We walked silently up the path, and stood in front of the door for a moment. I looked at Fang, and as I always did, studied his black eyes. They weren't 'mysterious and obsidian', and they definitely didn't 'swirl with passion'. However, I could completely understand any girl wanting to stare in Fang's eyes all day. They certainly were beautiful.

Fang stared levelly back at me, seemingly searching my eyes. Suddenly, the tiniest hint of a smile touched the left corner of his mouth, and he raised a hand to my face. I didn't blink as he gently brushed a finger along my eyelid, and pulled it away. Fang studied his finger for a moment, then smirked wildly. I scowled at him, crossing my arms. "What's your problem?" I asked coolly.

Fang continued to smirk. "You're wearing makeup!" he accuses, his whole face brimming with mischief.

My eyes widened, and I swore. Fang snickered, so I punched him in the gut. He wasn't expecting it, and doubled over, wheezing slightly. "Damn, Max," he breathed, no longer snickering. "You're such a killjoy."

I smiled sweetly at him, studying my punching fist casually. "Oh really? Well I certainly wiped the smirk of your face," I replied. "And that's all that matters to me. Night, Fangles!" I turned to go inside, internally seething about Fang's annoying antics.

Suddenly, two very strong arms snaked around my torso, pulling me back against a familiarly firm body. Fang's breath tickled my ear as he rested his chin on top of my head. I stayed completely still, my stomach inadvertently tensing under Fang's touch. "G'night, Max," he whispered in my ear. I closed my eyes, rubbing my head in the crook of Fang's neck. I felt about ready to fall asleep now, that's how calm I was.

As abruptly as they appeared, Fanf's arms flashed away, and I was left alone in the cool evening air. I whirled around in time to see Fang hopping over the fence around my yard. He turned back briefly, flashing a quick smile in my direction before he sprinted off, a black blur in the dim light.

Shaking my head, I let myself inside and quietly shut the door. Without warning, I slid down against it and sat with my knees curled up against my chest. That new bestie of mine just didn't play fair, riling me up and just as quickly calming me down. It was as if the title of 'bestie' had given him control over my emotions.

Dang Fang.

**LOLZ I've been wanting to use that line for awhile. I could've said damn, but that doesn't rhyme. XD**

Angel: plus, dang is more kid friendly!

Correctamundo, Ange. Anyway, this was an _**UBER long**_** chapter! **_**28 pages on Word. **_**So yeah! Pleeeease review! I'll love you for it!**

~TMI~


	18. Cherry Garcia and Max's Revenge

**DEDICATED TO:**** PurpleTea88****, who is an amazing help to my writing process. =D and also, to my new online soccer buddy,**** xXB-A-C-O-N Spells LOVEXx****!******

**That's funny. I always reread my chapters on FF after I post them, and when I was rereading chapter 17 the ad at the top of the page screamed, 'PLAY SOCCER!' lolz.******

**And to those of you who doubt my ability to write wings in without it being a cliché, JP-worthy disaster, fear not! I was debating adding wings in for awhile even before I had chapter three posted, and just in case I added things in that would help with it early in the story. Once it's over you will understand. Just remember, wings won't happen for at least five or six more chapters! XD I love you guys!**

**ONE LAST NOTE: I'm going to a science thing for a week, so I might not have time to write, and I won't have a computer to update with, so expect a later update for chapter 19.**

**Gazzy: YOU'RE A WHITECOAT, TMI?**

**No, Gaz, my science teacher recommended me for this science thi-**

**Gazzy: OH DEAR LORD RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! TMI IS A WHITECOAT!**

**SHUT UP GAZ! Agh…******

**Disclaimah: JP doesn't have trouble controlling Gazzy. Oh, and I most certainly don't own Princess Bride. ****  
****XD******

**MPOV**

Two words. Ihate. PrincessFreakingBride.

Did you catch that? I loathe Princess Bride, I despise it with every fiber of my being. It is the worst movie in existence. I cannot abide it in the very least. End of discussion.

Why? Well, the reason is truly embarrassing... And I only ever tell my most trusted friends. Even Linnie in Nevada didn't know this about me...

Princess Bride is the only movie that's ever made me cry.

Ella gets a sick sort of satisfaction out of forcing me to watch it. Therefore, after we ate dinner, I found myself wedged between Nudge and Terra on the couch. There was no means of escape. Ella stepped over to the DVD player and slipped in the dreaded disk.

My only consolation was the four pints of Cherry Garcia on the table in front of me. And no, there was not one pint for each of us to eat. The Cherry Garcia was all mine. Nudge and Ella each had a pint of Phish Phood, and Terra had one of Fudge Brownie. However, one measly pint of Ben & Jerry's is not enough for Maximum Ride. No sirree.

I had my beautiful, delicious Cherry Garcia all to myself. It was the only thing keeping me from screaming as the movie began.

When I had entered the kitchen earlier, twenty minutes late for dinner and rosy-cheeked from the cold breeze, there had been total and complete silence. Then the squealing began.

"How was your _date_, Max?" Terra cooed.

"Yeah, did you two have fun?" Nudge added.

"Did Fangy kiss you good-night?" Ella demanded. Her question set all of them off with uncontrollable giggles. Mom looked mildly confused.

"You were on a date with Fang, Max?" Mom asked me, setting her fork  
down.

My eyes widened. "No!" I shouted.

"Yes!" my treacherous friends squealed back.

I came over to the table and sat down in the empty chair between Terra and my mom. My first task was to load the clean plate in front of me with a mountain pasta. It gave me a reason not to look at any of the smirking occupants of the dinner table. As I ladled the sauce over my noodles, Nudge began to explain the 'date' situation. Mom looked less confused at the end, and smiled wickedly at me. "So, _did_ Fang kiss you good night?" she asked slyly.

Terra and Nudge practically shrieked at my mom's question, and Ella smirked wildly. I felt that horrible blush rise on my face again, and stared pointedly at the mound of pasta on my plate.

"He DID!" Nudge squealed.

"No he did not!" I snapped back, focusing on my pasta. "Fang isn't an idiot. He wouldn't kiss me because you guys declared we were on a date."

"Dammit," Terra muttered. I looked sharply up at her, and she smiled sweetly.

"You were gone for an awfully long time," Ella observed. "What were you two doing? Hmm?" My sick friends all eyed me expectantly, no doubt craving for me to dish out how Fang and I realized we were utterly in love with each other.

Ha. Yeah right.

"We played soccer," I informed them gruffly.

The annoying girls I tend to call my friends all frowned at me. Nudge even put her head in her hands. "What?" I asked defensively. "Fang and I always play soccer together."

"Figures," Nudge moaned. "We set them up on a date, and they spend it whooping each other's butts around a soccer field instead of doing something right for once."

"What would have been the right thing to do?" I demanded, savagely tearing into my pasta.

"Well, a nice long makeout session wouldn't have hurt," Nudge replied calmly.

I choked on my pasta. "NUDGE!" I yelled, my voice strangled. "I'm freaking eating here!" Ella snickered, high-fiving Nudge.

I tried my hardest to suppress the urge to murder them all. It was a Herculean effort, but with a lot of stress relief on my poor napkin, I managed it.

"Actually, maybe two makeout sessions would be better, Max. Yeah, two."

"Two at the very least!"

"I suggest five."

"WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP?"

The rest of dinner carried on in a similar fashion. Mom watched in obvious amusement as Ella, Nudge and Terra tormented me with horrifying suggestions of what Fang and I should have done on the 'date'. They always seemed to catch me just as I put a forkful of  
pasta in my mouth, and I ended up coughing on my food. I choked no less than sixteen times during that meal.

Note to self: NEVER eat dinner with so-called friends after hanging out with Fang, EVER AGAIN. It's hazardous to my health. I doubted anyone at the table knew the Heimlich Maneuver.

At least the food was good.

Which brings me back to my present predicament.

I watched as Buttercup and Ninja-Wesley-in-Disguise argued on the hill. As always, my thoughts ran to how stupid Buttercup was to distract me from my feelings about the film. If she had this 'true love' with Wesley, why couldn't she even recognize his voice?

Then she pushed him down the hill, and he tumbled down in quite a picturesque manner. "As you wish!" Wesley yelled as he somersaulted down the suddenly steep hill.

"Oh my sweet Wesley, what have I done?" Buttercup gasped. Promptly, she flung herself down the hill after him. Smart move, BC.

"I never did understand why she didn't just run down the hill," Terra remarked. Nudge nodded tersely, fully absorbed in the movie. Apparently it was the first time she had seen it, and she was completely intent on catching every last breath Wesley (and the apparently 'sizzling' Spaniard) took.

The only good things about the movie were my Cherry Garcia supply and the fact that Ella and Terra couldn't pester me about Fang. Nudge shushed us if we so much as coughed too loudly. She seemed borderline worshipful of the film, and cried several times.

Finally, the freaking movie ended, and the credits rolled. Nudge burst into spontaneous applause, tears streaming down her cheeks. I rolled my -thankfully dry- eyes at her in response. "ZOMG that was beautiful! I love Wesley! He's so amazing, and strong, and loving, and smoking hot, and Buttercup is so pretty, and that weird old priest was sooooo funny with the way he talked! I also liked that Spaniard, the hot one with the really long name I can't pronounce! He was sick! That fight scene with the him and the six-fingered-dude was pretty damn chill! I mean, seriously, he was all vengeful and adorable! Oh, I think he's my favorite!" Nudge babbled happily away about the movie, seemingly ecstatic about its very existence. For once, I didn't want Nudge to stop talking. Because when she stopped talking, they'd start teasing me about Fang. I knew that as well as I knew my middle name. And the worst part was I didn't even have any more Cherry Garcia to pull me through the arduous ordeal.

Heaven help me.

"I love that movie! Thank you for suggesting it, Ella!" Nudge finished bouncing up and down in her seat. I shrank into the couch, clutching my empty pint of Cherry Garcia. Don't bring up Fang, I prayed fervently, shutting my eyes. Don't bring up Fang, don't bring up Fang, don't bring up Fa-

"So Max, did you see Fang's face when Nudge and I told Kelsi and Jacki you two were on a date?" Ella asked conversationally.

I facepalmed mentally, outwardly the picture of calm. "Yes Ella dearest, I definitely saw his face, especially since he was behind me at the time," I replied scathingly.

Ella was unperturbed by my sarcasm. "He looked shocked out of his mind!" she told me gleefully. "His eyebrows disappeared into his freaking hair!"

"Yeah, stuck on a fake date with his new best friend. And it must have been very scarring to his mental health, me being me. Good thing his dad's a doctor," I muttered, crushing my Cherry Garcia carton in my hands.

"You being you? What is that supposed to mean?" Terra demanded, her eyes steely.

"Umm, I'm Max Ride? It doesn't need very much explanation, Terrs," I informed her.

"Exactly, you're Max Ride," Terra agreed, looking irrationally upset by my answer. "The hot new chick at Cromwell who managed to befriend THE Fang Rianild in less than a week. The amazing athlete who outstripped Gazzy Richards without trying. The girl who sailed easily onto the soccer team with barely a ripple her freshman year, and the one all the guys are drooling over. You have haters, Max, actual haters! Do you know why? Because you're so damn perfect!" Terra snapped, jumping off the couch and pacing around the room as she ranted. "Even now, you're wearing baggy soccer shorts, a huge old sweatshirt, and your hair is a mess, but you still look ridiculously pretty!" I watched her with wide eyes, the only thought in my mind being that I most certainly did not look remotely pretty right now. In fact, a blue-tongued skink could probably beat me in a beauty contest right now. Still, I was unable to form a response to Terra's strange  
rant.

"I have haters?" I asked finally, breaking the uneasy silence that had formed.

"YES!" Terra exploded.

Well, that's a creepy thing to know. I thought for a moment, then smirked. "Wait, THE Fang Rianild? Terra, is there something you're not telling us?" I cooed.

Terra facepalmed. "No, I don't have a crush on Fang. Ugh, that's scarring." She shuddered dramatically, and Ella giggled.

"So who do you like?" I asked mischievously. We were steering very well away from the subject of Fang, which was excellent.

Terra actually blushed, her cheeks blooming pink. It was very pretty, actually. Lucky Terrs- when I blush, I look horrendous. So does Ells, actually. It must run in the family.

"Umm, I don't like, uh, anyone," Terra stammered.

I raised a knowing eyebrow at her. Before I could say anything, though, Nudge and Ella burst into a flurry of guesses.

"Jason!" Ella crowed.

Terra shook her head violently. "Ew!"

"Iggy?" Nudge guessed.

Ella looked slightly tense, and I smirked. However, Terra shook her head. "Igs is like the brother I never had," Terra declared. Ella relaxed, and my smirk grew.

"Clay!"

"No!"

"Nick?"

"No!"

"Jon!"

"No!"

"Matt!"

"Ugh, no!"

"Jake?"

"Who, Linaldi?"

"Yeah!"

"No!"

I held up my hand imperiously, stopping the flow of guesses. All three girls looked at me expectantly. "It's Gazzy, isn't it?" I asked calmly, already knowing the answer.

Terra gulped, a nervous smile forming on her face.

That was answer enough for Nudge and Ella. They shrieked at the top of their lungs in celebration, while Terra sat sheepishly on the couch. "That is adorable!" Nudge squealed, hugging Terra. Terra squeaked in reply, probably unable to breathe.

When Nudge finally released her, Terra crossed her arms and smiled wickedly. I, for one, would be very afraid if that smile was directed at me. "Well, Nudge, what about YOU?" Terra demanded. Nudge blanched, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. Roses bloomed on the dark skin of her cheeks.

"Now this is the slumber party spirit!" Ella cheered. She disappeared quickly up the stairs, only to return a moment later lugging along all of our sleeping bags and a few extra pillows. "I've brought cushions!" she declared, throwing the stuff in her arms at us. Terra and Nudge cheered as they started to unpack their sleeping bags. I smiled at them, picking up the coffee table and moving it out of the way for our stuff. As much as I pretend to hate my friends, at times like this, all the trouble and humiliation is worth it.

"Thanks, Max!" Terra chirped. I nodded, setting the table down by the wall. Terra turned on Nudge, cracking her knuckles ominously. "Well, Nudgeykins, who is the subject of your wonderful affections?" Terra asked slyly. Ella snickered, and I hid a smirk as I started to unroll my own sleeping bag.

Nudge continued to bluff. "I don't like anybody, guys, jeez!" she insisted.

"Well, that's what Terry said, and she was lying. Why should we believe you?" Ella reasoned. Terra scowled, but I nodded. Ella's words made sense. "And Max denies she likes anyone either, but we all know she looooves Fang!" Ella added brightly.

Now it was my turn to scowl. "I don't like Fang, Ells," I growled, ignoring Terra's giggles. "Give me a break already."

"See my point?" Ella smirked at me before turning back to Nudge. "So who do ya like, Nudge? We'll figure it out eventually if you don't tell us straight!"

Nudge blushed even more, burying her face in her pillow. We waited for her admission, grinning widely. Finally, Nudge sighed, and muttered something indecipherable into the pillow. To me, it sounded vaguely like she said 'candy'. Ella looked just as confused as I was.

Apparently, Terra has better hearing than we do, because she leapt up with a very loud and piercing squeal. "Danny! Danny who?" she demanded, bouncing on her toes.

Nudge rolled over to face us, her cheeks bright red. "Armstrong," she muttered, blushing even more profusely.

"NO WAY!" Ella screamed. "He's a senior!"

"I know!" Nudge groaned back. "I know Danny's a senior, and I'm only a lowly freshman, but he's really cute and he talked to me at soccer practice every day this week! He was really sweet, and didn't even mind when I accidentally elbowed him in the gut. I mean, seriously, how many guys won't mind if you knock the wind out of them with your elbow?" Nudge demanded.

Fang, I thought immediately. However, I liked not having the attention on me for once, so I didn't voice my thoughts.

"Danny is pretty nice," Ella agreed thoughtfully. "He plays left midfield, right?"

"Yeah," Nudge sighed. A small silence broke out between us.

"Good luck catching him, girl," Terra told Nudge abruptly, her voice sincere.

Nudge smiled shyly. "Thanks, Terrs."

"So," I started, interrupting yet another quiet moment. "What movie are we watching now? It's only ten o' clock."

"I dunno. I want something action-y," Terra replied. "Princess Bride is nice, but besides the amazing Spaniard and Wesley, I don't like very many of the fight scenes."

"Definitely action movie," I agreed.

"Do you have 'Get Smart'?" Nudge suggested. "That's a good one, and there's tons of romance and action, plus there's some pretty freaking hilarious parts."

I nodded. "Great idea Nudge. I'll go get it." I stood up to go dig through our still unpacked box of DVDs, when Ella stopped me.

"Wait, aren't you gonna ask me who I like?" Ella asked, sounding a bit hurt.

I rolled my eyes. "Puh-lease, Ells. We all know who you like."

"Yeah," Nudge and Terra agreed simultaneously.

Ella seemed incredulous with our blasé comments. "You do?"

"It's slightly obvious," Terra coughed, looking apologetic.

"Who do I like then?" Ella demanded. "Hmm?"

Terra, Nudge and I looked at each other briefly. "Iggy," we chorused.

Ella's face drained of any indignation, and she flopped down on the couch. "Am I that obvious? Has Iggy noticed? He has, hasn't he?" she moaned. "He probably hates me!"

I crouched down by the couch, patting Ella's shoulder sympathetically. "Ells, this is Iggy we're talking about. He's male. Males are oblivious to all but the most obvious flirting," I explained. Terra and Nudge nodded solemnly.

"Plus, Iggy is used to girls throwing themselves at him north and south at our school," Terra added. "Since you haven't actually told him point blank you want him to make out with you, I'm 97% sure he hasn't noticed you like him."

"Have you noticed how he doesn't act like a player around you?" Nudge asked. "That means he thinks of you as one of his friends, not a nameless girl to suck faces with. That's a good thing, so if you two ever do go out, he'll take you seriously. I swear, the girls he's dated..." Nudge trailed off. "The majority were airheads. Some girls were actually nice, and smart, but they liked Iggy 'cause he's cute, and even though he's blind he acts like a normal kid. They liked that. But Iggy didn't take them seriously, and he put on his player attitude around them, which put them off of him after a week or two."

"What Nudge is saying," Terra interrupted hastily. "Is that since Iggy thinks of you as a friend, your relationship would be deeper and he wouldn't be a shallow idiot about it like he usually is."

Ella was quiet for a moment. Then she straightened up, and eyed Nudge and Terra with obvious respect. "That was deep," Ella remarked calmly. "Thanks, guys."

"No prob!" Nudge waved her thanks off airily. "Now Max, go retrieve Get Smart!" she ordered. Grinning, I went over to the box of DVDs and started pawing through for Get Smart.

After we had watched the movie and listened to Nudge rant about it for seven minutes straight (Terra timed it on her cell phone), we picked out another movie, and another. We watched movies until four in the morning, long after Mom had gone to bed. We just turned the volume down low so we wouldn't disturb her, and tried to keep the shrieking to a minimum. The latter was rather difficult for Nudge and Terra, who are both naturally very loud girls, but they survived.

At about four thirty, Ella dropped off, and Terra started snoring softly a few minutes later. They were soon joined by Nudge, who kept talking about soccer in her sleep, which was what I had been discussing with her before she abruptly conked out.

I, on the other hand, didn't feel sleepy at all. It suddenly occurred to me that now would be a perfect time to gain revenge from these evil girls.

I tiptoed out of the room and into the kitchen. The floor creaked loudly when I stepped on a certain place, and I winced. Thankfully, no one seemed to be woken up by the stupid floor. I hadn't been here long enough to know which spots creaked, and made several more loud noises on my way to the fridge. The damn floor was pissing me off royally.

When I finally stood in front of the large, stainless steel fridge, I breathed a sigh of relief. Tugging it open, I held my breath as it beeped. The cool air flowed over me as the light washed over my face. The refrigerator was stocked with tons of essentials, but I bypassed them all in favor of three cans of the greatest necessity of all.

An unholy grin lit on my face as I tiptoed back into the living room. Terra was snoring, Ella sighing, and Nudge was still softly rambling on about anything her sleepy tongue could scheme up. Quickly, I squirted large dollops of my secret weapon into their hands, and smeared more under their noses. When each of them felt it touch their face, they smacked their hands against them, spreading more substance across their innocently sleeping features.

Once I was finished with that, I grabbed a Sharpie and got to work on doodling. As I drew a heart reading 'GR+TS 4EVAH' in very large print across Terra's forehead, I snickered quietly.

"Oh yes," I whispered evilly. "Feel the wrath of Maximum Ride! Let's see if you tease me about Fang anymore!"

"I love you too, Danny," Nudge murmured sleepily. I smirked. This was far too easy.

**O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O**

I was woken up at approximately 11:45 by a loud, piercing scream. I kept my eyes closed, a satisfied smile creeping up my mouth. I figured I only had about thirty seconds to live, so I'd best make the most of it by going back to sleep.

"MAXIMUM RIESRA RIDE!" Ella hollered, sounding -to put it delicately- rather peeved.

"Yes sister dearest whom I know will feel horribly guilty if she offs me?" I sang, keeping my eyes shut.

"SCREW THAT! I WILL FEEL NO REMORSE!" Nudge shrieked. I snickered, digging in more comfortably to my sleeping bag. My soccer shorts were bunching in between my legs, and it was starting to irritate me.

"Max, you have gone too far!" Terra informed me, her voice deathly quiet. I peeked at her over the edge of my sleeping bag. Terra pointed incredulously at her forehead, more specifically at the heart I had doodled there last night. Err, this morning. "You have desecrated my love for Gazzy!" she declared.

"I'm so sorry, Terrs," I replied, choking back laughter. "Truly, you have my deepest sympathies."

"That is not enough!" Terra retorted haughtily. "You must pay with your life!"

All three girls advanced on me, murder in their eyes. I had to smile, despite the fact I was outnumbered. They looked so funny with Sharpie doodles all over and whipped cream crusted in their hair. "This is the end of Maximum Ride," Ella declared ominously. She grabbed a pillow and started whacking me over the head with it. I ducked, trying to shield myself from her blows. "Take that, foul cretin!" Ella yelled, slamming the pillow into the back of my and Terra apparently joined in on the whack-fest, because soon I felt two more pillows hitting me with the strength of a battering ram. Suddenly, the zipper on Ella's pillow caught on my hair, yanking it from my head. "Ow!" I yelped. "Stop it! I just wreaked my revenge on you for your teasing! Get a grip!"

Abruptly, the pillow pummeling stopped, followed by a short silence. Cautiously, I dug my head out of my sleeping bag and took a wary look around.

The scene I was met with was priceless. Terra had suddenly pulled the hood of her sweatshirt down low over her eyes, and all I could see was her blushing cheeks. Ella had fled from the room completely, and was hiding with just the right half of her face poking out from behind the doorframe. Nudge was holding her pillow in front of her face, and her eyes were squeezed shut in embarrassment. In the middle of all this, I sat smirking my head off amid piles of sleeping bags.

The cause of their embarrassment?

"Yo, Max," Gazzy finally said, uncomfortably breaking the silence. He had apparently decided that I was the most sane girl in the room right now, as I was not hiding at the sight of him. "Umm, we just came to see if you and Ella wanted to go to the park with us?..." Gazzy trailed off, his eyes quizzically placed on Terra. "And Terrs and Nudge could come too, I guess." Terra's blushing cheeks grew even brighter, and I fought the urge to burst out laughing. This revenge was even better than I thought it would be!

"If this isn't a good time," Iggy added, sensing the awkwardness, "We could come back later..."

Fang just shifted uncomfortably.

I grinned at the three boys crowding the doorframe. "No, it's not a bad time at all," I assured them with a sweet smile. "Just give us an hour to get ready. We haven't eaten yet."

"Dude, it's noon!" Gazzy informed me, looking shocked. "You haven't eaten breakfast yet?"

I shrugged. "Don't blame me. I just woke up."

"You look like it, too," Fang murmured. I fixed him with a glare, and he smirked. "I mean, you look as fresh as a daisy, Miss Ride," he teased.

"That's better," I replied haughtily. "Now shoo. Go do something you weird people do on Sundays. And don't get stuck in a bush again!"

Iggy glared in my general direction. "You little- those girls are scary!"

"Yeah," Gazzy agreed, his blue eyes wide. "We thought they had eaten Fang alive when he didn't follow us!"

Fang just smirked. "No, but they almost got Max," he snickered.

"Did not!" I disagreed. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself around girls like that, unlike you stupid boys."

"Hey! I'm not stupid!" Iggy whined.

"Keep telling yourself that, kid," I replied soothingly. With a bit of struggling, I was soon out of my sleeping bag and shooing them out of the living room. "Now scat. Come back around one or so," I ordered. "And behave yourselves!"

"Yes, Mother," Gazzy muttered, grinning as he exited the house. Iggy and Fang followed quickly after, and I watched as the boys disappeared off towards the park.

Shutting the door, I let a huge grin slide onto my face. That was possibly the best prank I have ever committed in my life! It was a great stroke of luck that the boys came. Their presence enhanced my prank tenfold. Terra had blushed so hard, I was fairly sure that her cheeks would still be pink by next year.

I took a deep breath as I entered the kitchen. Thankfully, it was devoid of angry, humiliated friends, and full of waffles. "Yum!" I exclaimed, sitting down at the table. "These look great, Mom!"

Mom smiled at me from the counter, where she was cooking more waffles for us. "Thanks, Max," she replied. After a moment, she continued, slightly hesitantly. "Was I supposed to let those boys in? They were your friends, right? I saw Fang, so I figured it would be okay to let them all come in to find you girls." She turned to look at me worriedly. "Was I mistaken?" I stifled a laugh, turning it skillfully into a cough instead. "No, Mom, it was great," I assured her. "Thank you so much for letting them in. "Mom raised her eyebrows questioningly at me, but I pretended not to notice as I dripped a steady stream of syrup onto my waffles. "Well, I have to go to the clinic today for awhile," Mom informed me, referring to her veternarian practice. "There are a few cats in critical health conditions that I need to check up on. Will you girls be okay with dinner on your own later? I'll most likely be back by seven thirty."

"We'll be fine," I replied. "Ella can cook."

"Good, or I wouldn't be able to go. Your cooking is worse than rat poison, Max," Mom retorted playfully.

I rolled my eyes, forking a large piece of waffle into my mouth before speaking. "That's why there's takeout and pizza, Mom," I explained with my mouth full of waffley goodness. "And you," I added as an afterthought. "You wouldn't want the one and only Maximum Ride to starve to death, now would you?"

"No, of course not," spat a poisonous voice from the doorway. "Because then we couldn't murder you ourselves!"

I smiled brightly at my severely pissed off friends. "Hi girls! How did you sleep?" I inquired innocently.

I realized that Terra had scrubbed the Sharpie doodles from her forehead, as did Ella and Nudge, and all three of them had freshly washed hair. "Don't try to act all angelic, Max," Terra snapped as she plopped into her seat at the table. "I've never been so embarrassed in my entire life."

"You probably invited the boys over to humiliate us," Ella accused.

I snorted through my bite of waffle. "Please, Ells. I was asleep until you guys woke me up. I couldn't have called them. It was simply destiny."

"Destiny sucks then," Nudge muttered, grabbing four waffles off a plate.

"Cheer up, girls! We're going to the park!" I smiled sweetly at them. They scowled, then in perfect harmony:

"Shut up, Max."

**LOLZ, this was a fun chapter to write. Yes, it's filler, but I ****couldn't exactly skip over their sleepover, could I?******

**I'm excited, because my home team won in their semi-final game for the women's world cup! GO USA! They play Japan on Saturday, for the finals. If they win, I might go into a fit of updating. You never know.******

**Megan Rapinoe is my hero. I love you all, USA! Woot!****  
**

**Next Chapter… Soccer games! Go Cromwell Lynxes! Go USA! XD**

******Review? We're so close to 300, guys! =D =D =D******

**~TMI~**


	19. In Which Gazzy is Mortally Wounded

**DEDICATED TO: FANGirlforFANG, my 300th reviewer! Along with… Wingz-and-a-Fez, 'cause you made me smile. =P Thanks to everyone who reviewed, too! I love you all! =D**

**PurpleTea88, you're right about the prefixes like Mr. and Mrs. and Dr. needing periods after, but I write on my iPod notes, so if you put a period after something it automatically capitalizes the next word, and you have to uncapitalize it. That gets annoying, so I just do Mr and Mrs, and hope no one will notice.**

**Gazzy; You do realize that makes no sense, don't you TMI?**

**...**

**...**

**-thinks deeply-**

**...**

…

**Aww, dammit! I feel stupid now. Thanks Gaz.**

**Gazzy: -smirks- anytime.**

**FPOV**

I was half-supporting Gazzy as we walked into school, tired and freshly bruised from our usual pre-school scrimmage. Gazzy and Lucas had had a bit of a collision when they were both going for the ball, and Gazzy was nursing a heavily bruised knee. Lucas had come off with a nicely purpled abdomen, but he could walk perfectly fine.

Gazzy, however, was limping very badly. His left knee was a light magenta and slightly puffy under his blue basketball shorts, It was obviously giving him a lot of trouble, despite his assurances that he was fine. Gazzy leaned all his weight on my shoulders when he took a step with his left leg, and was still wincing visibly. "Nurse?" I asked again, for probably the fifteenth time.

Gazzy shook his head violently. "No! I might not get to play in the game tomorrow if the school finds out I'm hurt," Gazzy breathed, concentrating on taking large strides with his good leg.

I decided not to point out the fact that his teachers would most definitely notice he was hurt. I went for a different tactic instead. "If you don't get it checked, you could seriously hurt yourself," I replied reasonably.

Gazzy set his jaw and stopped walking. I could feel his grip tightening on my shoulder as he turned his head to glare at me. "Fang S. Rianild, if you were the cripple in this situation, I know for a fact you would be arguing the same way as I am. So stuff it already! I'm not going to the freaking nurse!"

I shrugged, continuing to walk without another word about seeing the nurse. It was true: if I had been hurt and Gazzy suggested the nurse, I would've bolted, crippled or otherwise.

We were ten minutes early for homeroom today, since we had to stop our scrimmage early because of Gazzy and Lucas' injuries. I took Gazzy straight to his locker, practically lifting him every other step. His knee was bruised pretty badly, but he didn't say a word. The only way I could tell he was hurting was the way his jaw kept tightening, and his slight flinching every time he stepped on his left leg. I waited patiently as Gazzy fumbled with his locker, umzipping his backpack and handing him his binders to stow away. Gazzy looked at me briefly, then accepted the help. "Thanks," he mumbled. I nodded in reply, leaning back against the lockers and studying the ceiling as he continued to store his stuff.

"You didn't have to wait for me," Gazzy remarked suddenly, shutting his locker door with a quiet click. "I can get to homeroom okay."

I raised an eyebrow. "Take a step," I challenged, my voice neutral. Gazzy scowled at me, but complied and stepped forward with his right leg. His stride was confident and strong.

"See?" Gazzy tightened his grip on his binder, smiling slightly in  
triumph. "I can walk just fine."

"Other leg." I continued to watch him, letting no emotion onto my face. Gazzy's smile flickered, and slowly melted back into a scowl.

"Fine," he muttered rebelliously. "I can walk perfectly well." Gazzy took a breath in, then stepped carefully onto his left leg.

Immediately, his knee buckled, and he screwed up his eyes in silent pain. I lunged forward to catch him before he hit the floor, grabbing him under his arms. However, Gazzy swatted my hands away, and plopped loudly onto the linoleum. Everyone in the hallway turned to look at the commotion he was creating, but Gazzy didn't seem to notice nor care. He was scowling like a child, and crossing his arms over his chest.

I fought the urge to laugh, quickly swallowing the feeling and remaining calm. Instead, I knelt next to Gazzy, collecting the wayward supplies that had flown from his arms during his attempt to walk. When I offered Gazzy his stuff, he snatched it and continued to scowl at the opposite bank of lockers. I silently held out my hand to help him up, but he continued to ignore my actions.

I rolled my eyes: Gazzy could be somewhat of a drama queen. In fact, sometimes he was worse than Iggy, and that was saying something. I guess it was part of the job description for superstar forwards that he had to be a bit of a primadonna sometimes. Hell, I could even admit to my own bouts of primadonna-ness.

But I still kick ass at soccer, so that's okay.

"Gaz, get up," I ordered. Gazzy continued to pout, and showed no sign of acknowledgement towards the fact I had just spoken. "Gazzy," I repeated.

Gazzy didn't move.

I sighed, and adjusted the straps on my backpack before swooping down and grabbing him roughly under his arms. I dragged him upwards and looped my arm around his shoulders again. Gazzy scowled at me, finally recognizing my existence once more. "Fang," he growled.

"Gazzy," I replied calmly.

We stared each other down for a moment, not breaking eye contact. Finally, Gazzy's fingers began twitching uncontrollably, and I knew I'd won. He can't stay still for longer than two minutes, that boy.

"Fine," Gazzy muttered finally, looking away and beginning to fiddle with the fringing cover on his binder. I smiled slightly, then proceeded to help him to his homeroom. "Room nine," Gazzy instructed, his gaze on the floor in front of him. I nodded in reply, turning down the according hallway.

We traveled in silence, Gazzy avidly staring down his shoelaces, and I navigating. It was pride-injuring to Gazzy to need my help to walk, and I knew that. It was the same with me when I got hurt, and the same way with Max also.

A ghost of a smile tugged at my lips at the memory of my first day with Maximum Ride. She had been rather interesting at school, achieving instant friendship with practically everyone in my circle.  
That rarely happened. Max had been exactly the right combination of tolerance, wit, and soccer fanatic to slide into place with my friends.

I had been surprised to see her show up at my house that night, but of course I easily hid the emotion from my face. Max, of course, was not as successful. The look on her face was priceless when she realized it was my mom who had invited her family for dinner. Mom mentioned to me that the Martinez family was coming to eat with us, but I hadn't realized that Max Ride was part of the Martinez family in the first place.

When we had played soccer after dinner, Max surprised me yet again. I had seen her running in PE, and realized she was fast. I had watched her playing soccer with Gazzy and his friends, and it was clear that she was good.

What I hadn't realized was _how_ good or _how_ fast Max truly was.

Max wouldn't let up at all during our short one versus one. She kept me on my toes, and I had to pull out all my best moves to keep possession. Yet still, she had beaten me at my own game.

Then again, it was obviously her game too.

Gazzy kept reminding me of how Max had acted when she hurt herself that day. Even though Max had been obviously unable to walk, she insisted on trying several times. Even when it was proven she couldn't take a proper step forward, she wasn't happy about me carrying her. Gazzy's actions had almost exactly mirrored the ones Max had displayed that day. It was an interesting thought.

"Here," I announced, depositing Gazzy next to the door of room nine. "Who's in your homeroom that I can talk to?" I asked.

Gazzy raised an eyebrow, but answered. "Well, Iggy's in Mr. Sampson's class too."

"Is he in any other of your classes?" I continued, opening the door and helping Gazzy inside.

Gazzy hobbled up the aisle and sat down in his seat before replying. He was the fourth or fifth inside, and Iggy was nowhere to be seen. "Igs is in my first and last period classes," Gazzy informed me. "Why?"

"I just want someone to help you to your classes," I replied smoothly. Gazzy began to scowl again, so I quickly cut him off. "Look, I don't want you getting detentions for being late to all your classes, 'cause then you won't get to go to practice or the games this week." I internally congratulated myself on thinking of the thing that would force him to accept the help to class. He wouldn't dare interfere with his chances to play soccer. "Make sure someone helps you to class, Gaz," I repeated for good measure.

Gazzy frowned sullenly at his desk for a moment, his fingers swiftly braiding and unbraiding his binder's fringe. "Fine," he agreed finally. "I don't want to get detention, I guess."

"Good." _That was easier than I thought it would be_. "Who else could help you?" I leaned forward on his desk, shifting my backpack restlessly. I would need to sprint to be on time for homeroom myself, with all the extra time I was using up.

Gazzy thought for a moment. "Well, Igs can help me from homeroom to math," he started. "Then, I can get Terra and Nudge to help me to PE. They have history in the room next to my math class," he added as way of explanation. "And then I guess Terrs could help me from PE to history, even though she has art third period. She doesn't care about being late to class."

"True," I agreed. Terra didn't have anything to lose, since all the teachers loved her. They probably wouldn't mind if she showed up to class half an hour late. They would just be upset not to have had her presence in their class for the time she had missed. "I'll take you from history to your next class," I offered.

Gazzy nodded. "And you can probably pass me off to Nudge halfway. She's in my English class fourth period," he replied.

"Hey Gaz! Sup Fang? Why are you in Mr. Sampson's class? Did Miss James get tired of your little gentleman act and kick you out?" Iggy asked, flopping down with pinpoint precision in the seat next to Gazzy's.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the fact that Iggy couldn't appreciate the gesture. "Gaz got clobbered in soccer this morning," I explained. "We're trying to find a way to transport him to his classes."

"Ah, I see. You idiotic soccer diehards," Iggy commented, leaning back in his chair. "I'll arrange the details, Fangy-boy. I suggest you should run along to your classes though. You have four minutes."

"Crap," I hissed, glancing at my watch. Like Iggy said, it read 8:06, which meant I was in trouble. Without another word I was down the aisle and out the door, passing swiftly by a bemused-looking Mr. Sampson.

"He really needs to work on his exits," I heard Iggy say to Gazzy. Rolling my eyes, I sprinted down the hallway. I skidded to an abrupt stop outside my locker and rattled the numbers to my combination lock in record time. As soon as the door swung open, I hurriedly stuffed my backpack in my locker and pulled out my science and English binders. Abruptly, my art binder flew out, sending sketches flying everywhere.

"Crap, crap, crap, crappety crap," I muttered, crouching down to quickly gather the drawings. I carefully slid them all back into the pockets, trying not to wrinkle my work. Then I flung the binder back into my locker, slammed the door shut, and raced to Miss James' room.

Once safely inside, I speedwalked up the aisle to my desk in the back. Max was already seated, and she was smirking at me in way of greeting. I shot her a bored look in return as I fell into my chair. No less than ten seconds later, the bell rang.

"Close one," Max commented, her smirk turning into a grin. "Did your game run long?"

Max knew that several of us played a scrimmage before school everyday, but she had never decided to join us yet. Despite all of Gazzy's pleading and my prodding, Max simply refused to show up. Her various excuses were she had to walk Ella to school, she had too much homework to finish before class, her knees were sore and she didn't want to strain them... The list went on and on.

Ella told us she just didn't want to wake up earlier than already forced to. Apparently Max wasn't a morning person.

"Nah, we stopped playing early, actually," I replied, fiddling with my pencil.

Max frowned. "Then why were you late?"

Max looked strangely upset by my tardiness today. Her eyes were sparking with a tiny bit of suppressed anger, also, which confused me. "Gazzy got hurt, and I had to help him to his homeroom," I explained slowly, wondering if Max was going to start yelling or something.

Thankfully, as soon as I spoke, the anger died out of her expression. Now Max seemed almost embarrassed. "Oh," she muttered, not meeting my eyes for a moment. "Okay then. That's fine."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Where did you think I was?" I asked, curious to her sudden mood change.

"I, umm, nevermind," Max stuttered, looking refreshingly ruffled. Max never seemed to get embarrassed, so this was a nice change. Suddenly, though, Max dropped the stutter and looked concerned. "You said Gazzy got hurt? Will he be okay for tomorrow?" she demanded.

I shrugged. "Gaz will play tomorrow, and I can guarantee that."

Max was silent for a moment, weighing this. She sighed ruefully, grinning again. "Good point. I can't picture Gazzy missing the first game of the season," Max admitted.

I nodded, satisfied that she understood what I meant. "Exactly."

We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the rest of the announcements. As soon as the droning voice on the loudspeaker clicked off, Lissa turned around in her seat and started pouting at me. I sighed inwardly, steeling myself for her daily bouts of idiocy.

"Yes, Lissa?" I asked resignedly. Max snorted, crossing her arms. I could see her beginning to scowl out of the corner of my eye. Max really detested Lissa for some reason, even more so than my other friends. She would never explain her hatred for my ex-girlfriend, though, besides her obvious stupidity and flirtatiousness.

"Fangy," she whined, widening her eyes at me. "Have you been seeing other girls? Is that why you're always late to homeroom now?"

My jaw literally dropped. I stared at Lissa incredulously, wondering where the girl even got these ideas. "Umm, what?" I managed to say, my voice miraculously still calm.

"Are you meeting up with other girls? You are, aren't you!" Lissa accused, pointing one shiny pink fingernail at me. "How dare you!"

Before I could think of a proper response to that statement, Max cut in. "Excuse me, Lissy," she started, smiling poisonously. "But I highly doubt Fang's love life is any of your beeswax. He could be kissing a different girl before homeroom everyday and you wouldn't need to know. So buzz off."

Lissa glared at Max, who simply glared right back. Finally, she huffed prissily and got out of her chair. Her deskmate, David, looked disappointed by Lissa's departure. However, Max seemed positively thrilled.

"She's gone!" Max cheered. "Break out the ice cream! We need to celebrate, Fang!"

I had to smile at that. "Max, Miss James' classroom sadly does not have any ice cream," I informed her.

Max closed her eyes dramatically, sinking back in her chair in a dejected sort of way. "I can't go on," she breathed. "I need my Ben & Jerry's! Now!"

"What flavor?" I asked, momentarily distracted.

Max popped back up in her chair, grinning once more. "Cherry Garcia, of course! That's the best one!"

I shook my head at her solemnly. "No, young Maximum, you are mistaken," I intoned. I let out a huge, regretful sigh. "You must go with the way of AmeriCone Dream!"

"AmeriCone Dream?" Max asked, sounding slightly confused. "I haven't heard of that one before."

"Best. Flavor. Ever," I assured her seriously. "There's chocolate-covered waffle cone bits, and-"

Abruptly, the bell rang, cutting off my explanation of the deliciousness known as AmeriCone Dream. Max hopped up out of her chair, her spat with Lissa thankfully forgotten. I followed Max quietly out of homeroom, smiling to myself as she led the way confidently to science class. I still remembered her first day at Cromwell, when she kept getting lost. Now Max was an old pro at finding classes. It was interesting how quickly she adapted to the school. I rarely heard her mention anything about her life in Nevada, and she didn't seem to regret moving one iota.

I was secretly happy about that. I liked having Max around.

Once we arrived in science, I made my way towards the desk Terence and I shared, while Max plopped into her seat beside JJ. JJ was already seated, but Terence wasn't here yet, so I busied myself copying down the homework in my planner. Mr. Lundom smiled genially at us, but didn't say anything. He seemed rather wary of Max since that day she was biting everybody's heads off, and he never seemed quite comfortable with me or JJ, for some reason.

Science flew by, and soon I found myself in my usual window seat in Ms. Niota's class. Iggy was a little late, so I had to place my binder on the seat I reserved for him. Unfortunately, it was necessary. Before I put the binder on his chair, several girls had already attempted to sit down in it.

I ignored the put out looks I was attracting from the female population of my English class, instead gazing intently out the window. I could see the PE class straggling out to the track, most of them looking mutinous. However, the faces I was looking for- Max, Gazzy, Nudge, or Terra- were all conspicuously absent from the crowd. The more I searched, the more evident it became that none of them were there at all.

Finally, a smaller group of people followed the class to the track. Squinting through the window, I could make out Mr. Tulney, swarmed by my friends, and Gazzy being supported by Nudge and Terra. Max appeared to be arguing with Mr. Tulney, who didn't look like he anywhere near agreeing with her. I wondered what they could be arguing so heatedly about so early in the class.

"Hi Fangles," Iggy greeted me enthusiastically, sitting down on my binder with a loud crunching noise. Alarmed, he hopped back up again, staring at me with his pale blue eyes. "Hey! What was that?" Iggy demanded.

"My binder," I replied, collecting my smashed possession from its perilous duty as seat marker. "I put it there to save your seat."

Iggy snorted, feeling the seat with his hand before sitting down again. "Gee, thanks. Your binder doesn't make a very nice cushion."

"Is your ass too sensitive?" I remarked, inspecting the crunched cover of my binder for damage. It appeared to be okay, apart from a bent edge and a crease on the front.

"Yes, actually," Iggy replied primly, folding his hands in an exaggerated impersonation of our principal. "I have a very sensitive ass, you know."

"Lovely," I shot back, peering out the window again. "How's Gaz?"

Iggy's expression changed instantly from one of mockery to one of sympathy. "Ooch, the poor boy is in pain," he informed me. "I practically carried him from homeroom. When I dropped him off with Nudge and Terra, it sounded like they were trying to act as human crutches in order to carry him." Iggy cracked his knuckles loudly, then grinned. "Personally, I think Terra should have just given him a piggy-back ride," he whispered impishly. "I can't understand why Gazzy doesn't believe us when we say that she likes him."

"Mm," I grunted, trying to bypass the matchmaker garbage Iggy was always so weirdly interested in. He got creepy when you encouraged him in that kind of conversation. Instead I went with the safe route of soccer. "Does it look like he'll play tomorrow?"

Iggy snorted.

"Does it look like Anne will LET him play tomorrow?" I revised hastily. "I know he would anyway."

Iggy shrugged. "I can't say for sure. I'm blind, remember? But apparently, if you trust Jenna Lee's screams, his knee is positively purple."

"Quiet, class," Ms. Niota ordered softly, and instantly the class was silent. Everyone liked Ms. Niota, and misbehavior was rare in her classes. "Today we are working on the final drafts of your persuasive essays. If you need assistance, ask me. Otherwise, work in your peer writing groups."

Everyone stood up and began shuffling around into the assigned writing groups, so I left Iggy and went to find my partners, Luke and Pia. They were already deep in discussion on Pia's essay about sea turtles, so I sat down with my paper and let them talk. My attention drifted towards the window again, and I caught a glimpse of Max, Nudge, and Terra running along the track together, conversing intently about something, probably Gazzy. I could just pick out the small figure seated on the bleachers that was Gazzy, and he appeared to be holding a large ice pack to his knee. I smiled slightly: at least he was getting a little care for his injury.

After all, he had a game to play tomorrow.

* * *

I waited patiently at the back doors of the school, the ones people used to get to the gym for PE. Terra had already passed by, smiling apologetically at me.

"Where's Gaz?" I called to her.

"I can't carry him anymore," Terra replied sheepishly. "Max took over for me instead. She and Nudge are stronger anyway."

"Okay," I mumbled, switching my gaze back to the doors. The rest of the PE class came flooding through the doors in groups of threes and fours, some laughing and chatting, some complaining to their friends. There was no sign of Nudge, Gazzy, or Max.

At least, there was no sign of _my _Max.

Max II came walking in by himself, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his hoody and a sulky expression etched onto his face. When he caught my eye, he scowled and stopped. I appraised him calmly, waiting for him to speak first.

"I will get Max back," he informed me coolly, standing up straighter to try and intimidate me. The fact that he was four or five inches shorter than me didn't help his cause. "I'll get Max back," he repeated, "and she will never look at you again, _Fang_." Max II's lip curled. "You disgust me."

"No," I replied, my voice tinged with a boredom I didn't feel. "You're jealous of me." My hands were shaking slightly from pent-up anger at Max II's cocky attitude, so I placed them slowly and calmly into the pocket of my sweatshirt.

Max II looked shocked for a moment, then subsided back into a cold sneer. "I have no reason to be jealous of such a shallow, school_ celebrity_ like you, Fang," he hissed.

"Yeah you do," I assured him, my face and voice expressionless. "I have Max, and you don't."

Max II's sneer flickered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "Oh, I'll have Max back soon enough. You just watch and see…"

Max II stalked off down the hallway, muttering something sinister under his breath. I rolled my eyes, keeping my gaze on the door. Nudge, Gazzy, and my Max hadn't come through yet… Where could they be?

Around the fifth time I had checked the clock above the door, Max and Nudge came staggering in. Gazzy's arms were threaded around their shoulders, and he was performing some sort of strange hop on his right leg. Mr. Tulney came bobbing in behind them, checking nervously on their progress. I noticed that the icepack that had formerly been strapped around Gazzy's knee was now clutched in his hand. "Alright there, ladies? Now you should hurry off to your classes, you have those late passes I gave you?" Mr. Tulney inquired. Max and Nudge nodded, producing scraps of paper from their pockets. "Good, good. Now we just need to get Gazzy off to his class somehow-" Mr. Tulney murmured. Mr. Tulney shifted his vision across the hallway, catching sight of me. "Fang!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here? It's almost time for third period to begin!"

"Sorry, Mr. Tulney," Max cut in smoothly, adjusting her grip around Gazzy's shoulders. "Fang offered to ferry Gazzy to history, since they have that class together. Is that alright?"

Mr. Tulney stared Max down for a moment, then smiled. "Of course, of course," he replied. "Let me just write a pass for both of them. You girls should get off to class now."

"Right," Nudge agreed. She and Max directed Gazzy forward, steering him clumsily into me. I tried not to stumble as he unlatched himself from the girls and grabbed onto my shoulders to maintain his own balance. I gripped his shoulder in support, threading my arm under his so he wasn't in danger of toppling over anymore.

"Gaz, you're a fatty," Max muttered, speaking under her breath so Mr. Tulney couldn't hear her.

"Aww, I love you too Max," Gazzy replied, smiling sweetly at her. Despite the gruesomely plum color of his knee, Gazzy seemed to be in rather high spirits.

Max rolled her eyes, then smiled at me. "Yo Fang, I hope you're feeling strong today," she murmured as she slid past me. "Sir Fatty over there is one heavy boy."

"I'm good," I assured her seriously. "I can take on Sir Fatty."

"Hey!" Gazzy whined. Max and I just smirked at him, before she followed Nudge down the hallway and disappeared. Gazzy grinned suddenly at me. "Phew, I'm glad they're gone. They stink," Gazzy confided, looking mischievous. "Mr. Tulney assigned a killer of a work out today, and needless to say our dear friends perspired quite a bit."

"Lovely," I deadpanned, my eyes on Mr. Tulney. He was busily scribbling something down on another piece of paper he had produced from somewhere. When he finished writing, he signed it with a flourish and capped the pan. Turning to me, Mr. Tulney offered the paper. I took it, studying the few words scrawled across the center. _Late Pass: Fang Rianild, third period. Roger Tulney._

"There you go, Fang. And Gazzy, you have yours?" Mr. Tulney inquired. Gazzy nodded, flashing his own late pass. "Good, good. Then go to your classes now, boys. Gazzy, I would like to hear you visited the nurse's office."

Gazzy's eyes darkened, but he made an effort to be polite to the teacher. "No sir, I'm okay. I don't need to go to the nurse," Gazzy assured him. "The ice really helped!" he added, seeing as Mr. Tulney didn't look too convinced.

"Fine," Mr. Tulney sighed. "It's your knee. Go on, then."

"Thanks, Mr. Tulney!" Gazzy called behind him as we set off down the hallway. I had to hunch over slightly, as Gazzy was one or two inches shorter than me, but we managed. Gazzy hopped along pretty well on his good leg, and we were standing outside history in no time.

"Be careful not to strain your right knee," I advised him. "If you put too much pressure on it while your left is healing, you're gonna hurt that one too."

"I know, I know," Gazzy replied, rubbing his right knee vigorously. "I just hate being so slow."

"Don't worry about it," I muttered, pushing the door to the classroom open.

There was a short silence as we entered, easily ten minutes late. Ms. Hell, as Iggy called her, turned to face us, a threatening look on her face. "Mr. Rianild and Mr, Richards," she addressed us coolly. "Do you have late passes?"

"Yes, ma'm," Gazzy replied cheerfully. He brandished the scrap of paper at Ms. Hell, and I showed her my own. Ms. Hell grabbed the passes, studying them carefully. She probably expected forgery, never having trusted a student before in her career at Cromwell.

"Take your seats, then. Do not disrupt the class any further today," Ms. Hell ordered finally, tossing the passes in her recycling bin. Gazzy and I made our way up the aisle to a pair of empty seats, sitting down quietly until Ms. Hell began to lecture about some war again.

"I won't disrupt the class anymore today then," Gazzy murmured to me out of the corner of his mouth. "I'll wait for tomorrow."

I nodded sagely, pulling out my notebook and beginning to doodle.

History class dragged oh so boringly by, Gazzy and I forced to revert to doodling instead of talking, since Ms. Hell was keeping an unusually sharp eye on us after our late entrance. She seemed to suspect that we were unruly attention seekers, and would go at any costs to make trouble in her class again.

Old bat.

Thankfully, the clock finally dragged its lazy hands over to the beautiful numbers that signified the end of third period. "Freedom!" Gazzy whispered joyfully, gathering up his materials in less than five seconds. He shoved the parts from three disassembled pens into his pocket, then stood up and started to try hobbling to the door.

Needless to say, he didn't get very far before I caught up and slung his arm around my shoulder again. "What's your next class?" I asked calmly, ignoring the displeased noises he was making.

"English," Gazzy muttered, directing me towards the right hallways. "You?"

"Math," I replied. "I can get there on time if we hurry a bit."

Gazzy and I speed-hobbled through the hallway, pushing past crowds of people and weaving in between the hordes of still more students at our beloved Cromwell. Halfway to Gazzy's English class, Nudge popped out of nowhere, a resigned look on her face.

"Fang, I don't want you to be late for math because if you get detention and can't play _and_ Gazzy is a cripple than we wouldn't have our star forwards for the game tomorrow. Of course, Rosanna is a really good forward, but you guys are like, amazing! So even though I know I'll regret my decision in three steps, I'll take Gazzy to English and you should hurry to math. You're already halfway in the wrong direction Fang, so hurry!" Nudge ordered, not even out of breath. Quickly, I handed Gazzy over to her. He didn't argue, surprisingly, but obediently wrapped his arm around her shoulders with a satisfied smile.

"Thanks Nudge," I told her simply, flashing a quick smile. Nudge waved it off, already grunting to herself as she hauled Gazzy to English.

I half-ran to math, slipping in the door just as the bell rang. As I sank into my seat, I could barely focus on Mr. Vinns' voice. There was just too much going on today, what with Gazzy being hurt, talking to Max II, and almost being late to every single one of my classes so far.

We really better win our game tomorrow.

* * *

The rest of the day went by relatively quickly. Gazzy was handed around between most of our friends. By sixth period he had been ferried to classes by me, Max, Iggy, Nudge, Terra, Ella, Lucas, Matt, and JJ. It was a relief to be able to sit down next to Max in art class and not have to worry about who was going to haul Gazzy where next period. Max seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because she was doodling a highly exaggerated picture of her, Terra, and Nudge in chains, dragging a wildly grinning Gazzy behind them on a huge, bejeweled throne.

And she says that _I'm _a drama queen.

"Settle down, class," Ms. Rykitel called quietly, sitting down on her stool in front of our desks. Gradually, the chatter died down, and we looked expectantly at Ms. Rykitel for her next directions. "For the next several days, we will be focusing on pencil portraits. You will draw yourself, your desk partner, and another person in the class. After we are finished with these, we will move away from pencil and paper for awhile and begin with a pottery unit."

Some cheers rose up in the class at the mention of pottery, but Max scowled. "I suck at clay," she muttered, glaring at her doodle. I rolled my eyes, and Max kicked me under the desk. Luckily for her, Ms. Rykitel didn't notice.

"We shall begin with the self-portraits! I will hand out mirrors for everyone to use. Once you have a mirror you may begin," Ms. Rykitel instructed, slipping off her stool and picking up a box of hand mirrors.

Ms. Rykitel gave me a dark green mirror, and handed Max a bright fuchsia one before walking away to the next desk. Max glared at her pink mirror before furiously attacking her paper, still muttering to herself. I stifled a laugh at her antics, instead turning my attention to my own drawing.

I was absorbed in the drawing after awhile, periodically checking my mirror for reassurance on my reflection. Max seemed to have calmed down, for she was no longer growling every time she looked in her pink mirror. Silence reigned in the room, but for a few quiet conversations. Everyone seemed to be concentrating on making their self-portraits look as good as possible. I highly suspected there wouldn't be this much focus when we began drawing other people.

Art seemed to be an eternity, but in a good way, unlike history class. I felt very calm and collected when the bell rang, almost as if I had just woken up from a long, soothing nap. Max actually yawned as she put away her pencils, looking very sleepy. "Art always makes me tired," Max murmured, stifling another yawn. "It's so quiet in here."

"Yeah," I agreed, stowing my portrait away in a pocket of my binder. Out of pure habit, I checked to make sure all of my best drawings were still inside the binder. My still life was present, as was the one of Iggy dancing ballet, along with the doodle of Nudge and Gazzy fencing dramatically-

I furrowed my eyebrows as I rechecked the binder. One of my drawings was gone. Where could it have disappeared to?

"Fang? You ready to go?" Max asked impatiently, drumming her fingers against the desk.

I double checked my binder, but the missing drawing didn't surface. With a sigh, I decided it must have either fallen out when I dropped my binder earlier, or was hidden among the messy sheaves of paper bursting out of the pockets of my binder. "I'm good," I told Max, following her out the door again.

"Good, 'cause today is our last practice before the game, and we can't be late," Max replied, shifting her binder in her arms absentmindedly. "Anne said lateness is mirrored in how much game time we get, and I want to play as much of the game as I can. I know you do too," Max added, shooting me a knowing look. I shrugged, not bothering to deny it.

"I think I lost one of my drawings," I remarked once we were at our lockers. Max glanced at me, stopping in the midst of dialing in her combination.

"Was it important?" she asked immediately. I half-smiled. That was one of the reasons I liked Max. Most of my other friends wouldn't have cared about me losing one drawing. They would've pointed out I had millions of other ones anyway.

"Yeah, kinda," I replied, pulling my backpack out of my locker.

"Bummer."

"Yep."

We packed the rest of our stuff in silence, letting the background noise of the hallway fill in the space. "Race you to the locker rooms," Max offered suddenly, a mischievous grin lighting up on her face.

"You're on," I replied instantly. Without another word, we slung our backpacks over our shoulders and bolted down the now-empty hallway. Max was starting to get ahead of me, so I yanked on her backpack and pulled her behind instead. She yelped in protest, latching on to my backpack strap as a way of retaliation. We raced down to the locker rooms, cheating and pushing, in the way we had become accustomed to behaving.

* * *

**Someone's POV**

I knelt in the alcove, watching the tail end of Max's ponytail flash around the corner as she chased Fang down the hallway. My fists clenched at the thought, but I didn't let it bother me too much. Fang was merely temporary, and Max would not be entertained by him for long.

I looked at the crumpled paper in my hands. It depicted a scene of Max playing soccer, poised to take a penalty kick on a comically frightened Iggy Fields. Every stroke of the pencil was confident and bold, just like the person formed by the lines. A small signature in the bottom corner proclaimed it to be the work of Fang, a fact which made my clenched fists tighten even more.

Maybe he didn't even realize it yet, but that boy was a danger to my mission. He was a compromising point in a set of data. He could ruin the whole plan.

We would just have to rehash some aspects of our plan, making them include Fang, perhaps even a few more of the ones that were drawing too close to Max. In fact, that might even work to our advantage.

Only time would tell.

I crushed the already wrinkled drawing into a ball, lobbing it at Fang's locker. The paper ball bounced harmlessly off, coming to a landing a couple feet away from the wall. I came out of the alcove and strode down the hallway, smashing Fang's drawing again under my heel as I passed it.

Yes. Only time would tell.

**Yay! Dark ending! I love dark endings.**

**Gazzy: -facepalm-**

**Lolz. Anywayzas, obviously some people don't read my author's notes, which makes me sad. =::( I know this because some people asked when I was gonna update, even after I warned you I was at science camp last week.**

**Gazzy: WHITECOAT.**

**Shut up already about the whitecoat thing, Gaz! So, if you actually read my author's note, write a note to Gazzy in your review! It doesn't have to be long, just say hi to him or something! (:**

**Gazzy: Tell me how amazing I am. Don't be shy. =P**

**Right… So yes… REVIEW PLEASE! =D**

**~TMI~**


	20. Uniforms, Pizza, and More Soccer

**DEDICATED TO: CoffeHouseGirl274, for her wonderfully honest review. XD I tried to PM you, but it said you disabled that feature. =( Ah well. No hard feelings. Also, to ADarkWingedForever, for catching up and reviewing so many times! =D Love ya, girl!**

**Here we go… More action, here we come!**

**Max's POV**

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR KNEE?"

Anne's bellow echoed across the entire field and then some. I swear I saw birds scattering in the distance.

Our dear soccer coach was literally livid when she spotted Fang and I half-carrying Gazzy down to the field, fully geared up to play but sporting his delightfully purple bruise. That was a bit of a downturn to his appearance, I bet. Maybe we should have gotten him a donkey to ride on or something… more for dramatic effect than anything…

"Hi, Anne," Gazzy chirped, cheerful as ever. He was clinging onto Fang's and my shoulders, but other than that- the boy was happier than Iggy with powdered donuts.

"DON'T YOU 'HI ANNE' ME, MISTER RICHARDS!" Anne screamed, clenching her clipboard so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "ANSWER THE QUESTION!"

There was even a vein pulsing in her temple.

Impressive.

"I just bruised my knee a bit, I'm fine," Gazzy started, still smiling brightly.

"A bit?" Juliann whispered, gazing in awe at the magnificent plum color of Gazzy's knee. "That is not 'a bit'."

"Solipha's right, Gaz," Ford drawled, coming over to inspect the damage. "That's some nasty business there."

Gazzy scowled at Ford, whipping his arms away from around me and Fang. "Oh yeah?" Gazzy challenged. "I said I'm fine, and I'm fine!"

Ford snorted, and Anne did not look appeased in the least. "Everyone but Gazzy, take a lap," she ordered, glaring at the latter.

The bruised wonder scowled right back at her. "I can take a lap, too," Gazzy insisted, looking murderous at the mere hint of a suggestion that he wouldn't be practicing.

"You won't if you want to stay on this team," Anne replied flatly, her grey eyes cold. "You messed up, Gazzy."

And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked away.

"Crap," Fang remarked calmly. I barely suppressed the urge to facepalm at his blunt analysis of the situation. You would think that if the boy didn't talk much, he wouldn't curse as much as he does with his small choice of everyday words.

"Yes, Fangles, this is indeed a crap situation," I muttered, elbowing him in the ribs.

Fang didn't even flinch. "Thank you for agreeing, Max," he replied airily, as if discussing the weather.

We were not discussing the weather. We were discussing the grounds of retaining the sanity of our dear friend, Zephyr 'Gazzy' Richards.

I wish I was over-exaggerating. I really do. But sadly, I am not. Gazzy treats soccer like his life. He's as obsessed with soccer as that Oliver Wood dude in Harry Potter is with quidditch. Possibly, Gazzy is even more obsessed.

Nudge once told me Gazzy has never had a girlfriend for longer than three weeks. His soccer obsession is probably the main reason why.

"I'm going to talk to Anne," Gazzy growled, breaking me out of my thoughts. "She can't keep me off the field." Gazzy pushed roughly away from me and Fang, starting towards the bench Anne had stormed off to. He took very long, miniscule steps with his left leg, and huge, impatient strides with his right. This caused his gait to look rather awkward and jerky, but Gazzy ignored the way he looked at the moment.

Sighing, I set off down the track to complete the ordered lap. Fang followed close behind, and we soon caught up to the rest of the team. They were gossiping like old ladies about Gazzy and Anne, Ford and Lauri especially.

Goalies.

"I didn't realize I hit him that hard," Lucas moaned, looking miserable. "I took out our best forward!"

No one disagreed with him, but instead tried to dance around the subject. "It's okay Luke," Matt assured him swiftly. "Gaz doesn't mind a bit of pain."

"But Anne does," Lucas pointed out.

"Don't worry," Matt repeated unconvincingly. Lucas groaned, a sound which made it seem like he was indeed worrying.

"Gazzy will be better in no time," Sadie said suddenly, making everyone look at her. "He always has a bad first day with injuries, then he regenerates impossibly quickly. That's the way he's been since grade school."

Everyone stared at her for a moment. Sadie never really spoke much, and usually to only the girls. She seemed to have a strange aversion to speaking with guys. However, she was a killer midfield, so no one really cared about her conversational habits. "She's right," Fang agreed, causing everyone to turn his way. "Gaz is always like this with injuries. Bad first day, miracle recovery. He's a strange boy."

"Amen," Ella murmured, and Nudge giggled. Lucas looked reasonably happier at Sadie and Fang's assurances, and said nothing more about Gazzy's injury being his fault.

By this time, we had made it back to the bench where Gazzy and Anne sat. Like Mr. Tulney in PE earlier, Anne had strapped a chunky ice pack to Gazzy's knee. They were sitting in silence, neither looking at the other. Gazzy had his left leg up on the bench to support the ice pack, and was looking decidedly sulky.

"Alright, team," Anne said briskly once we had arrived. "Sit down." We all plopped down on the turf in front of the bench, beginning to stretch without her telling us to. "I am sure you have all noticed Gazzy's knee," she began, her eyes sparking darkly. "I am not pleased about it, which you must have also noticed."

We nodded emphatically. Devon stifled a snicker, and Ford and Rosanna instantly smacked him. "You might think the situation is funny," Anne added, her eyes fixed on Devon. "However, I do not."

Devon stopped smiling, and continued with his stretching.

"This has compromised our chances in the game against the Daleview Mustangs tomorrow." Anne brandished her clipboard at us, flashing the lineup paper in our faces. "I already had the lineup completely marked out, and now I have to change things."

"I can play just fi-" Gazzy started hotly.

Anne wheeled on him, and interrupted instantly. "I didn't ask your opinion, Richards," she hissed, obviously very pissed. Gazzy shut his mouth, but still looked adamant about his ability to play. "Even if you were to play tomorrow, you aren't in any shape to perform the way I had anticipated. The plays I wanted to incorporate aren't suited to your ability at the moment. If you get to play at all tomorrow, Rosanna will be switching with you every other quarter so you can rest."

Rosanna and Gazzy locked eyes for a moment, then nodded. They were obviously okay with that arrangement, as long as both of them got to play.

"So, as you might imagine," Anne continued, her eyes sparking just a tad less. "To prevent any future injuries, I'm asking you not to play your pre-school scrimmages every day for the remainder of the season."

"What?" Lucas and Matt yelped in unison. Anne cast them a cold look, and they quieted.

"You heard me," she snapped grimly. "I would feel bad about restricting your playing time, but we can't afford any more injuries like Gazzy's from meaningless games. If you're injured in one of our games, I assure you I'll be more understanding than I would be in one of your own scrimmages."

Lucas and Matt still looked slightly rebellious, and Fang seemed to be mulling her orders over. Everyone else, however, seemed fine with it. After all, Anne's new decree barely affected anyone else but Lucas, Matt, Fang and Gazzy.

"Understood?" Anne asked, her voice clear and commanding. Everyone nodded amid the general murmur of assent. "Good. Now tomorrow against the Mustangs, we'll have to focus on speed and precision. Their passing is good, from what I've gathered, but ours is better. And we have some of the fastest runners in the whole damn school district on this team whom we can use to our advantage." Anne's eyes found mine, and I half-smiled at her compliment.

"Max, obviously," Juliann muttered, nudging me playfully. I smiled at her, but didn't say anything.

"We just have to shoot hard and fast to gain an early lead. Rosanna, Gazzy, run fast and be brutal to anyone who gets in your way." Both Gazzy and Rosanna looked gleeful at this order. Rosanna even started cracking her knuckles ominously, which looked even more frightening than normal coming from the usually sweet and petite junior.

Appearances can be deceiving, you know. Especially with females.

"Fang, I expect you to be dancing circles around the Mustang defense," Anne ordered. Fang nodded, his eyes thoughtful and a smirk playing on his lips. "Lauri, Ford, save everything you can get your hands on, obviously," she continued. The goalies grinned and high fived each other, instantly launching into a discussion of what they knew about the Mustang offense. "Midfield should be fast, precise, and moving constantly. Fight to the end to maintain possession of the ball." Anne paused, her eyes roving over the team and seeking out each midfielder in turn. "Defense, if the ball gets past the midfield, launch it out, preferably to one of our players. If that's not possible, aim for open space."

"Yes'm," Nudge chirped, saluting Anne. Ella nodded, throwing her arm up in an identical salute. Matt and Lucas merely nodded, looking slightly nervous.

Anne smiled at them. "Okay, now that my impressive pep talk is over for today, let's get on with practice. As a very special treat for you Lynxes, I've decided to skip the Death Defiers. I don't want you all tired out for tomorrow."

This announcement was met with great applause and whooping from the majority of the team. Juliann and Rosanna were jumping up and down and squealing their heads off, while Ella and Nudge once more performed  
their complicated handshake in celebration. Sadie looked merely relieved: she had never been especially good at DDs, and made it well-known she detested them.

I, for one, honestly didn't care. After the first four days with DDs crowning the end of practice, my legs had adapted. I could sprint five without breaking a sweat, and then I would jog the rest. Easy.

No one else but Fang seemed to share my views, however. In general, when Anne set up cones in the ominously familiar DD pattern, people groaned loudly in protest. Only Gazzy, Fang, Ford and I adjusted to them. Then, surprisingly, Nudge began to lead the pack with us. She was a good runner, I had to keep reminding myself. She always led in PE, along with Gazzy and I. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I still was. Nudge always conveyed the impression she was on the brink of death during soccer practice, but I guess that was just her good acting coming into play. Even Anne believed some of Nudge's groans and complaints, and it was very difficult to convince Anne when you weren't actually hurt.

"Begin your regular warm-up!" Anne directed, waving her clipboard ferociously at us. We scattered towards the middle of the field, beginning to stretch out for the practice. Ford and Lauri led the warm-ups, briskly putting the Lynxes through our paces. We were so ready for that game tomorrow. I was feeling energetic enough to sprint from here to our house in Nevada, then turn tail and run straight back.

Oh yes. I was ready to piledrive some poor, unsuspecting Mustangs. After all, they wouldn't expect a freshman girl to whoop their sorry asses, would they? They wouldn't, and I was counting on that.

I kept looking over at Gazzy throughout the remainder of the practice, checking to make sure he was still alive. Gazzy was swinging his right leg moodily back and forth on the bench, his left held immobile by the ice pack the size of Mount Everest. His eyes were locked on the ball, tracking it as it flew across the turf from me, to Nudge, to Danny, to Ford, to Ella, and back towards me again. Gazzy as a whole was looking mournfully deprived, his blue eyes practically swimming with frustration. Periodically, he would wrench his gaze away from the ball and glare at his injured knee. Gazzy wouldn't dare whack it, but I could tell from my few glances towards him that he was muttering something foul at the poor bruise.

Like I said, I was worrying about Gazzy's sanity at this point.

"Gaz seems to be cussing his knee out for hindering him," I murmured to Nudge as I dribbled the ball towards her. "Is that normal?"

"Oh, he'll be fine by tomorrow," Nudge assured me, giggling as she trapped the ball and passed it to Lauri. "Gazzy knows it, too. His problem is he doesn't like sitting on the bench. The poor boy just isn't used to it."

"I'll bet," I agreed. "He must have never had a coach who would willingly take him out of a game very often."

"And Gazzy has never played a game where he's willingly come out very often," Nudge replied. "The idea just isn't compatible with his brain." Nudge received the ball back from Ford, and dribbled off.

I snickered at her blunt analysis of Gazzy's mindset, but had to admit that Nudge was speaking the truth. And, after all, I was pretty much the same way Gazzy was. When I was twelve, my soccer coach took me out of a game once the entire season, and that was because I had broken my leg.

So yeah. I could sympathize with Gazzy.

Juliann passed me the ball, and I dribbled off through the cones of Anne's drill. I twirled a neat Maradona around the first cone, cut right at the next, pulled off a quick roll over by the third cone, and finished off with a fancy move that Fang had made up and taught me. He told me he had named it the Whiplash, but I simply called it the twirl-around-and-cut-to-the-sides-a-few-times-inator.

Fang still insisted on calling it the Whiplash, though. Silly boy. My name was obviously loads more creative.

"Halt!" Anne ordered, and I trapped the ball under my foot, panting lightly. "End of practice," she explained, seeing our quizzical looks.

"Already?" Liz asked, sounding confused.

Anne smiled at her, nodding. "Already," she confirmed. "Doesn't that make you sad?"

Astonished, we all checked our watches. Or in my case, yanked Fang's wrist over to check his watch. It was indeed already five, which was the end of practice.

"I guess we're just too used to the four-hour practices," Fang murmured, pulling his wrist out of my grasp. "An hour and a half seems too short now."

"Very wimpy," I agreed, following him towards the sideline, where the team was regrouping. Fang's mouth quirked in a tiny smile, but it disappeared quickly. He was seeming a bit tense, for some reason. It was probably the anticipation of tomorrow's game getting to him. After all, it was the first game of the season. He had every right to be tense.

Anne was standing by Gazzy now, two large cardboard boxes on the bench between her and the bruised wonder. "Here are the new uniforms," Anne announced, seeing our curious peeks towards the boxes. "They are literally brand new this year, so please don't rip them to shreds. Our sports fund is starting to dry up a bit."

Some people laughed, but we all had our eyes riveted on the box. Anne dipped her hands into the larger one, pulling out a jersey.

It was scarlet, with white edging on the collar and sleeves. A small round patch on the upper left declared the wearer to be part of the CROMWELL HIGH LYNXES, the blocked silver words circling around a small silver paw print. Anne flipped the jersey around, showing us the silver number '17' flashing in the sunlight. "Pretty, aren't they?" Anne asked, fondly folding up the jersey. We all nodded, our gazes locked on the box. "Any number requests?" she continued, placing '17' back in the box.

Several hands shot up at once. Anne pointed to Rosanna, who was looking very intensely at the box of jerseys. "Number three," Rosanna requested, bouncing up and down.

"Any objections?" Anne asked, surveying the rest of the team. No one spoke, so Anne pulled number three out of the box and tossed the jersey to Rosanna.

Rosanna caught the jersey like it was made of gold, looking at it in awe. "Grab a pair of shorts and your socks, and you're free to go," Anne instructed. "Home game tomorrow, be on the field and ready to play at three forty five!" she added, loudly so that the whole team heard.

"Seven," Gazzy stated, looking up at Anne from his seat on the bench. Anne paused, but no one objected.

"Here, Gazzy. Be better by tomorrow," she warned him, tossing the scarlet jersey his way.

Gazzy grinned, fishing around in the other box for the socks and shorts. "I'll be good as new," he promised.

"You better be," Anne replied sternly. "Max? Number?"

"Thirteen," I requested, smiling. To my surprise, Fang raised his hand in protest.

"I want thirteen too," Fang declared, his eyes locking on me.

I scowled at him. "Get your own number, Rianild," I replied coolly. "Thirteen is mine."

"I beg to differ," Fang retorted.

I cut him off before he could say anything further. "There's no need to beg- it won't make a difference," I told him sweetly.

"Ooh, dis," Ford stage-whispered. "Cat fight!"

Several people, including Nudge, Ella, Liz and Lauri, giggled at this. Fang and I ignored them, however. We were too busy shooting glares at each other. "My number!" I hissed at him, putting my hands on my hips.

"No," Fang disagreed, "it's all mine."

"Meanie," I snapped.

"Selfish," he shot back.

"Idiot!"

"Jerk!"

"You're both being silly," Anne cut in, looking between us disapprovingly. "Max will have number thirteen, because she asked first. Fang, you're going to be fourteen," she decided.

I shot Fang a triumphant look, but didn't dare say anything in front of Anne in case she revoked my beautiful number thirteen. Fang scowled at me momentarily, but accepted the jersey with fourteen across the back. We elbowed each other silently as we went to get our socks and shorts, and Gazzy snorted loudly. Anne cast us a suspicious look, so we stopped with the physical harm. I unfolded the jersey on my arm so the silver thirteen glistened brightly in the sunlight, very visibly. Fang pinched my arm, obviously noticing my adjustment on holding the jersey, and I had to bite back a yelp.

"Didn't your mother teach you to be kind to ladies?" I hissed at Fang. We each extended an arm to Gazzy, which he took. He was suspended between us as we walked back towards the locker rooms, the giant ice pack still bound to his bruised left knee.

"Why yes," Fang retorted. "But you, Max, are most certainly not a lady."

"You're just jealous because I have number thirteen," I replied airily, shifting the uniform on my arm.

Fang grunted noncommittally, causing Gazzy and I to snicker. "What is it with thirteen, anyway?" Gazzy asked, glancing between me and Fang. "Why are you two making such a big fuss over it?"

"Thirteen is my lucky number," I declared dramatically. "I like how to other people, it's unlucky. Makes me feel special."

"How cute," Gazzy commented, snorting again. "And you, Fang?"

"One plus three equals four, which is my lucky number," Fang answered calmly. Gazzy and I stared at him in slight disbelief.

"Why didn't you get number four then?" I demanded. "That would make more sense!"

"Number four jerseys are always size small, which won't fit me. Never has," Fang replied.

"Poor Fangles, his relationship with the number four shall be forever unrequited," I crooned. Fang reached around Gazzy's shoulder and yanked on my ponytail. "Ow!" I yelped, flailing around to try and pull my hair out of his grip. Gazzy and Fang laughed at my actions, so I tugged sharply on Gazzy's short blond spikes of hair, then reached over and pulled on Fang's long, dark bangs.

"Max!" Gazzy whined, immediately stopping his laughter and rubbing moodily at the hair I had pulled. "That hurt!"

Fang nodded in agreement, gingerly touching his scalp where the hair I had yanked connected.

"Good," I snapped. "It was supposed to hurt."

"I retaliated because you stole my number," Fang pointed out.

"Are you number four on your non-school team?" I demanded.

"Yeah," Fang confirmed slowly.

"So why are you complaining if I have thirteen on the school team? Your number even has a four in it, now. So you're being ridiculous, Fang," I retorted. We arrived outside the locker rooms, releasing Gazzy so he could lean against the wall on his good leg.

"She's right, you know," Gazzy whispered loudly.

"Fine," Fang snapped. Gazzy and I grinned at each other. "Maximum dearest, I apologize thoroughly for my appalling behavior concerning the number thirteen. Happy?"

"Yep," I replied, smiling at him. Suddenly, I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, sticking my head comfortably under his chin. I could already feel him stiffening in response to my attack, but I ignored that detail. That was just Fang's automatic response to hugging. "Thank you Fang," I sang sweetly. "I forgive you for your sins."

Fang tapped me awkwardly on the back a couple times with one hand, and I could hear Gazzy laughing again. Pulling back, I smiled brightly at both Gazzy and Fang, before running over to the girl's locker room. "See you later!" I chirped, suddenly very cheerful. I had number thirteen, The boys nodded, heading towards the other locker room as I slipped inside the girls'.

I was greeted once more by the sweaty-sugar cookie scented air. Rosanna had stayed behind at the field to wait for Juliann, so I was the only one in the room. Sighing, I headed over to my locker and started twirling the combination lock.

By the time everyone else made it inside, I was already fully dressed and pulling on my left sneaker. Ella and Nudge had their arms linked, and were singing some sort of chant while Rosanna and Juliann provided background vocals. It went kind of like:

_Through the district,  
Down the street,  
Who's the toughest team to beat?  
Cromwell! Lynxes! Yeah!_

"That's sure to strike fear into the hearts of the Mustangs," I remarked, stifling a laugh.

Ella nodded imperiously. "Of course it will," she replied. "Nudge and I made it up."

"I can tell," I muttered under my breath. Ella and Nudge didn't hear, but Sadie flashed me a quiet smile. I grinned back at her.

Once I had both of my shoes on, I collected my new uniform and walked outside. Anne had just made it back from the field, lugging the two now-empty boxes that had contained our uniforms. "Hey, Max," Anne greeted me with a smile. "You're going to do great tomorrow. I can tell."

"Thanks, Anne," I replied, grinning in return. "We'll crush those Mustangs."

"That's the spirit!" Anne agreed enthusiastically. "I just have to go recycle these boxes now." She gestured to the uniform boxes under her arm.

"Do you want me to do it for you?" I offered. "I have to wait for my sister and Fang to finish dressing."

Anne nodded, handing me the boxes. "Thanks, Max."

"No problem. See you tomorrow," I replied.

Anne grinned again, then walked into the girl's locker room. I adjusted my uniform under my arm, making sure I didn't drop anything before walking towards the dumpsters behind the locker rooms.

It was quiet by the dumpsters, and the wind whistled slightly in the gap between the trash bin and the recycling bin. My sneakers were loud against the pavement, even though I stepped quietly. When I got to the blue recycling bin, I stopped to crush each of the boxes. When they were flattened, I shoved the lid of the bin up and stuffed the dented cardboard inside. As the lid crashed down again, the bang echoed in the narrow, windy passage.

Smiling slightly, I tucked my uniform securely under my arm once more and set off back towards the parking lot. Before I had gone four steps, a loud squeak rang out behind me. Strangely, it sounded like it came from inside one of the bins. I whirled around, my eyes searching the area.

It was deserted, except for a potato chip bag blowing along the pavement.

Frowning, I stepped back towards the bins, determined to investigate. What could have squeaked like that? It didn't sound like a rodent, however plausible that theory would be. It sounded more like a human making a strange sound than anything else.

I put my hands on the lid of the trash bin, staring intently at the black metal as I began to lift it up.

"Max!"

Ella's voice reverberated down the passage, and I let go of the metal lid, letting it crash back down on the trash bin.

"Max?"

It was Fang this time, standing at the corner of the building. He looked at me inquisitively, cocking his head. "What are you doing?" he asked, walking towards me.

I shrugged, taking my hands away from the trash bin. "Thought I heard something," I replied vaguely, waving towards the bins.

"It was probably your stomach," Fang informed me solemnly.

I scowled at him. "It was most certainly not my stomach, Fang! I heard a squeak!"

Fang shrugged. "I dunno then, but I'm starving. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," I murmured, following him back down towards the parking lot. When we reached the corner, I glanced back at the bins, sitting quietly at the end of the passage. The potato chip bag was still blowing aimlessly about on the ground. Nothing was remotely unusual. "Must be my imagination," I mumbled to myself, rounding the corner.

"Come on!" Ella urged me, watching as Fang and I walked towards her. "Fang's mom invited us over for a snack before dinner, and she hinted that it's pizza!"

"Pizza's a snack now?" Fang asked, sounding amused.

Ella nodded vigorously. "Pizza is any type of food you want it to be," she declared.

"Amen!" I shouted, startling a flock of pigeons on the flagpole. "Let's go get the pizza already!"

With Fang mumbling to himself behind us, Ella and I rocketed into high gear, sprinting towards Fang's house. When we arrived, we simply burst in without knocking, beelining directly towards the kitchen. "Hi Linda!" we chorused as we rushed into her kitchen.

Many people would have frowned, asked us to keep our voices down, take off our shoes, etc. But with Linda, she just grinned right back at us. "Hi Max, hi Ella!" she chirped. "Did you come for pizza?"

"Why, no, Linda, we came to look upon your beauteous features," I replied. Ella nodded vigorously in agreement. Linda just laughed as she slipped on her oven mitts. She turned to the oven, opened the door, and extracted a pizza pan from inside.

"Are you sure you didn't come for this?" she asked mischievously, waving a hand over the deluxe pizza.

I didn't even glance at it. Instead, I grinned at Linda. "Positive," I assured her. "We came to gaze upon the glorious wonder known as Linda Rianild."

"The very beautiful eyes," Ella sang, cueing my entrance.

"The lovely lips," I added, nodding sagely.

"The gorgeous tresses," Ella praised.

"The wonderful cooking skills!" I gasped out, before Ella and I burst out laughing, unable to go on any further.

Linda giggled too, swatting at our shoulders like we were her own children. "Just eat the pizza, girls," she ordered. "I can't take much more of your flattering."

"But it's all true, Linda," I insisted, seizing a pizza slice loaded with pineapple and bacon. Linda certainly knew how to cook, that was a fact.

"So, where's my delightful son?" Linda asked, ignoring me. Ella and I exchanged looks and laughed.

"We kinda ditched him on the way back," Ella started slyly.

"He'll get back eventually," I assured Linda. "It was just that he was walking and we were sprinting. Not a good combination."

Linda looked worried, almost irrationally so. "He's by himself?" she asked, her voice a higher pitch than usual.

I glanced confusedly at Ella, who shrugged. "Linda, Fang can take care of himself. Do you want me to go back for him?" I offered.

Linda seemed torn between keeping me safely in the house and not wanting Fang to be alone. "You wouldn't mind just peeking outside, Max, would you?" she asked, almost timidly. "I try not to worry, but when they were fourteen Fang and Iggy were attacked for no reason in the park, and I'm just paranoid that it might happen again."

I tried not to show my surprise at this new piece of information. "Of course, Linda. I'll go check," I replied quietly, setting down my pizza and walking towards the door.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," I heard Ella say behind me, "but who attacked Iggy and Fang?"

The front door shut behind me before I could hear Linda's response. I made my way carefully down the steps, feeling suddenly nervous. The atmosphere of the street, carefree and friendly just minutes earlier, now felt almost sinister. It seemed as if every bush and tree was watching me through hidden eyes.

I set off down the sidewalk, glancing around me every few steps. There was no sign of Fang, but if he had simply kept walking once Ella and I disappeared towards his house, he wouldn't be back yet.

I still couldn't shake the feeling someone was watching me. I hated walking by myself, my mind always went on overdrive. I would need to start running, just to calm myself down. It was harder to over think when I ran. Running usually simplified things for me, actually.

There was still no sign of Fang.

I tried to shrug off the ominous worry that was descending on me. Fang would be fine, I was just ruffled because of what Linda said. People didn't just go around attacking fourteen-year-old boys. Maybe they had just gotten pranked really badly, and Linda viewed it as an attack. That seemed much more plausible.

But I couldn't shake off the bad feeling I had. Even though I had covered a lot more ground since I began running, I still hadn't seen Fang.

He should have at least gotten here by now. Where was he?

This was beginning to feel ominously like a scene from a horror movie. I would be coming upon Fang's dead and mangled body any moment now.

I was just waiting for it to start raining, to complete the picture.

Feeling more and more nervous, I sped up as I ran back towards the school. I would be there in no less than two minutes, yet still there was no sign of Fang. Would I have to call 911? At that horrifying thought, I sped up even more racing around a corner.

Something tall and decidedly bony crashed into me, sending me sprawling backwards. I instantly cushioned my head with my hands, wincing as they hit the sidewalk and skidded hard against it. The figure landed on top of me, digging his elbows into the pavement on either side of me to stop himself from crushing my face in with his forehead. We lay there for a moment, panting, unable to move.

"Hello, Max," the boy said. "Fancy meeting you here."

I grimaced at the sound of his voice. I had been hoping that it was a very different person I had crashed into. "Hello, Max" I returned coldly. "Would you mind getting off of me?"

Max II smiled without any humor, rolling off of me and onto the sidewalk before standing up. "Thank you," I said shortly, sitting up and inspecting my hands. The skin of my knuckles was ripped and bloodied, and they stung atrociously.

"You know Max, I've been thinking," Max II began, sounding more friendly. "I acted kind of rashly before. I'm sorry about that. I was just, you know, upset that I hadn't made the team too," he explained.

I raised an eyebrow at him as I stood up. We were eye to eye, him having no height advantage over me. "Why did you make all those comments about Fang, then?" I asked, my voice expressionless as I studied his face.

Max II seemed earnest enough. "I was jealous of him," he replied dismissively. "I still am, actually." It appeared that Max II was waiting for me to ask why he was so jealous of Fang.

I had no intention of doing that. "Of course you're jealous of Fang," I scoffed, frowning at him. "Fang is everything you aren't, Maxi."

Max II scowled. "And what's that?" he asked, grinding his teeth. He didn't seem quite as repentant and friendly anymore.

"Nice, thoughtful, smart, and oh, _good at soccer_," I replied sweetly. Max II looked livid, and opened his mouth to spit something else at me. "I'm done talking," I cut him off. "Good bye."

And with that, I pushed past Max II and headed towards the school again. "You'll regret that, Max," he called after me, his voice sounding strangled. "I know people!"

"I do too," I replied loudly, not turning around to look at him. "Isn't it a great world?" I broke into a run, ignoring any further words Max II shouted after me.

After carefully turning the corner again, I spotted none other than Fang Rianild walking calmly towards me. "Hey, Max," he said when he saw me. "Where's Ella?"

I skidded to a halt directly in front of him, forcing him to stop walking. "What's up with you?" Fang asked, frowning slightly.

I just stared at him, opening and closing my mouth like a goldfish. Fang was still alive. He was perfectly fine. He wasn't bloody and mangled, only my hands were. "I have just had one of the worst experiences of my young life," I announced, staring him down.

Fang raised an eyebrow at me. "How dreadful," he remarked calmly. "Can we keep walking now?"

I snorted in disbelief, but stood aside to let him pass. We fell into step, silently walking the rest of the way back to his house. I no longer felt like I was an actress in a horror movie, but I still felt like I was being watched, somehow. I checked quickly behind us, every few steps, but no one was ever there.

Fang was eyeing me like I was ready to be locked up in an asylum, obviously confused by my paranoid behavior. I didn't explain.

We made it to his house without incident, and thankfully without seeing Max II again. Fang led the way back inside, and we walked into the kitchen. Inside, Linda, Ella, and Maria were eating pizza and giggling over something, while Lulu scuttled around on the floor, alert for dropped pizza. Linda was obviously not afraid for Fang's welfare anymore, but when he entered, she still leaped up and hugged him. "Fang!" she shouted, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "I was so worried!"

Fang cast me an alarmed glance, but I simply shrugged and headed back towards my pizza. I had done my duty to Linda, and was emotionally exhausted by my little excursion. Pizza was the answer.

"Mom, I'm fine," Fang said slowly, sounding very confused. "What's going on?"

"I was just worried about you walking all by yourself out there," Linda explained, releasing her son and peering anxiously out the kitchen window.

Fang stared at her. "Mom, it's barely five thirty. It's not even dark yet. I was perfectly safe."

Now that I thought about it, I realized that was true. There wasn't really a reason to be so worried. No one was going to attack Fang out of the blue while he was walking home from school. This wasn't a bad neighborhood in the least.

Linda waved away his assurances. "Pizza?" she offered. Fang silently grabbed a slice, obviously still confused by Linda's attitude.

"Max, you look exhausted," Ella commented, watching me slump over the counter. "Did you beat up a gang on your walk?"

I shrugged, holding my hands up in a 'I dunno' sort of way.

Ella's eyes widened at my actions, and she dropped her pizza on the floor where Lulu immediately began licking it. "Max! What happened to your hands?" she demanded, looking exasperated. "How do you always hurt yourself so much?"

"This wasn't my fault," I protested, as Linda started busting out a first aid kit. "It was Max II!"

"You got in a fist fight with Max II?" Ella asked incredulously.

Fang looked over at me, suddenly alert. "When did you see Max II?" he demanded.

I frowned at the mention of Max II's name coming from Fang. "We ran into each other about ten minutes ago," I deadpanned, smiling again at the irony.

Obviously, Fang, Ella, and Linda didn't get the joke. "Why are your hands all bloody?" Ella persisted.

"We crashed into each other turning a corner at a sprint," I explained, wincing as Linda squeezed a tube of medicine over my left hand and started vigorously rubbing it in. "I fell backwards, and was holding my head so I wouldn't crack it on the sidewalk. The backs of my hands just got beat up instead, no big deal," I insisted.

Fang was staring rather darkly at his pizza, as if he wanted to punch it rather than eat it. "Did he apologize?" Fang asked quietly, his voice completely calm, at odds with the expression on his face.

Immediately, Ella and Linda quieted down their background chatter, turning their attention solely to my hands. I looked at Fang, trying to ignore the stinging cuts on my hands. "What?" I asked Fang, even though I had heard him perfectly well.

Fang turned his attention to me instead of his pizza, his eyes hard. "Did he apologize?" he repeated, staring me down.

I didn't blink. "No, he didn't," I replied calmly. Fang's jaw clenched, so I hastened to add, "And I wouldn't want him to, either. His apologies mean nothing to me."

Fang's eyes softened just a bit, and his jaw unclenched. "He should have apologized," he muttered resolutely, switching his gaze back to his pizza.

I rolled my eyes. "It was just as much my fault as it was his. Anyway, can we not talk about Max II anymore, please?" I requested.

Fang didn't answer, but Linda chirped, "Well, your hands are taken care of now!" She closed the first aid kit and stowed it away in a cupboard.

I looked down at the backs of my hands, which were now swathed in bandages. "Thanks, Linda," I told her, picking up the rest of my pizza and stuffing it in my mouth.

"No problem, Max," she assured me. "More pizza?"

I swallowed and grinned at her. "Of course!" Ignoring Ella's snorts, I accepted the piece she gave me, taking an enthusiastic bite.

Pizza was the answer, after all.

**O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O**

**Another Someone's POV**

"She heard you?" the boss demanded, staring at the computer screen instead of at me.

I nodded, trembling slightly. "She heard us, but she didn't seem to realize we were the cause of the sound, nor did she-"

"She didn't see you?" the boss interrupted, switching gaze from the computer to me.

"No, she didn't see us," I confirmed.

The boss nodded, thankfully looking back towards the computer. "Good," the boss murmured. The boss watched the computer screen for a moment, then whirled around to face me again. "Then why did she keep looking around for you when you were tailing her afterwards?"

I winced. "She seems to have a certain sense of when she's being watched. It has been observed in her school here, along with the other she attended in Nevada in the last two years, and the ones in Nebraska, Florida, and New Jersey before that."

The boss laughed quietly. "Dr. Martinez certainly knows when she's being watched. She has always moved her family around when we've closed in too much for her liking. It appears she passed on that trait to Maximum." The boss laughed again, looking closely at the computer monitor. "And Fang too, is exceptionally perceptive."

I nodded, but my partner's fists clenched at the sound of Fang's name.

"Is there something wrong with me complimenting Fang, Maxwell?" The boss asked, turning to face my partner.

Max shook his head silently.

"Good," the boss snapped, turning back to the monitor once more. "Because I will be doing it often, it appears."

I brushed away the crumb of alarm that hit me at the boss' words. Fang could take care of himself, as could Maximum. And it was an honor to be so highly revered by the boss, after all. Both of them were very lucky people.

I tried to convince myself of that fact.

**Okay, I have to admit I'm going a bit crazy with the SOMEONE'S POV's. They're just so fun! XD And I'm sorry to those who didn't like the idea that Max II was the other Someone. I had that idea from the moment I introduced him into the story.**

**Now can you guess who this Someone is?**

**Oh, and to those who were positive Max crashed into Fang, that was my original idea. But then I realized how cliché that was, so voila! Max II was the culprit instead. I'm evil. =P**

**Review please! I go and write more of the next chapter every time I see a new review! =D**

**Gazzy: it's true. -_-"**

**Lolz.**

**~TMI~**


	21. Leadup to THE GAME, THE GAME, THE GAME!

**DEDICATED TO: An anonymous reviewer by the name of Death. You made me smile. =D******

**Many thanks also to Love My Writing Or Else, who gave me stellar grades on my report card. =D I wish all of my teachers thought like you.******

**Someone's review reminded me of something: a few of you guys (who I love forever) actually guessed my age. I was very pleased by some of your answers. =D But some people haven't done their research! XD If you read my story The iPod Screen, you'll find out how old I am. Plus, if I do say so myself, it's a pretty kick-ass story. =D******

**A special shout out to Lilac Rose6, who complained justly of my abuse to the Daleview Mustangs.******

**Gazzy: BOO MUSTANGS!******

**Nudge: YOU ALL SUCK!**

**Gazzy: Well, except for Marina. –grins-**

**Terra: -appears out of nowhere- -slaps Gazzy- -disappears-**

**Gazzy: OW!******

**GUYS! -_-" Well, I'm sorry to those whose school mascots are mustangs. My rival school are mustangs, so yeah… hence the bashing. XD******

**On with School Days! Let the intense soccer-ness begin!**

FPOV

Max and I barely spoke during homeroom. We didn't need to talk to confirm that all we were thinking about was the game later today.

This would show how well the Cromwell Lynxes really played together, whether we were truly good enough or not. Anne had also hinted that it would determine the number of Death Defiers required in practice tomorrow. I needed to focus all of my attention on it, and I knew Max felt the same way.

This is why I was surprised when Max nudged me halfway through announcements, somehow managing to look mischievous and solemn at the same time.

"Fang," she whispered, her brown eyes huge. "I just lost the game."

I frowned at her. "Max, you can't think negatively like that. The game starts in eight hours and forty-eight minutes."

Max looked puzzled for a moment. "You're counting down the minutes? But never mind that. I wasn't talking about the soccer game! I was talking about_THE _Game!" she insisted.

I stared at her for a moment before I realized what she was saying. It dawned on me slowly, and I elbowed Max in the ribs as retaliation. "Aww, you're a jerk! You made me lose the game!" I shook my head at her as she grinned and started laughing. "That was low, Max, low."

Max smiled sweetly at me. "Of course! I'm so low that I'm below sea level, Fangles!"

I rolled my eyes. "Lame, Max, lame."

"Do you enjoy sandwiching my name between words?" Max asked, her forehead wrinkled slightly.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Low, Max, low. Lame, Max, lame," she grunted, performing a horrible imitation of my voice. "Like that," she explained.

"I dunno," I replied, shrugging. "But you certainly don't have Gazzy's gift for mimicry. I don't sound like that at all."

"Yeah you do," Max argued, poking my shoulder to emphasize her point.

"Uh, no I don't," I disagreed. "That's like saying you sound like this." I paused for a moment, then mustered up the highest sounding squeak I could manage. "OMG, my name is like, Max! Yay! Nail polish!" I tittered.

Max stared at me, looking slightly alarmed. "Never do that again," she ordered, sounding deeply disturbed. "That was totally unnatural and altogether too creepy for words."

I flashed her a smile. "I do my best."

Suddenly, the homeroom bell rang, jarring us out of our conversation. "I hadn't even realized announcements ended," I remarked, gathering my stuff up and walking out towards science.

Max smirked, flipping her ponytail dramatically over her shoulder. "I'm good at distracting people," she replied.

I glared at several boys who looked to be juniors, causing them to break their gazes away from Max's ass. "Yeah, you definitely are," I muttered, shooting a last dark look towards the juniors as they hurried away. Despite the fact I was only a freshman, I had taught the older guys in school very early in the year I was a force to be reckoned with.

I smiled at the memory. Good times, good times.

Max didn't even seem to notice the boys' stares. I wouldn't be surprised if she got their reaction a lot.

However, Max surprised me by smiling at me, gently bumping her shoulder against mine as she did so. "Thanks," she murmured in response to my raised eyebrow. "About those guys."

"No prob. That's what besties are for, right?" I asked, getting a laugh out of her in response.

I guess she had noticed them, then. Max is more perceptive than I gave her credit for.

We continued down the hall to science, where we split up to sit in our separate desks. I watched as Max sat down next to JJ, her heels bouncing up and down under the desk as a result of pent up energy. I felt exactly the same way. It was just a good thing that Mr. Lundom was teaching some sort of easy theory for the whole period, because I couldn't pay any attention to the droning sound of his voice.

"What's wrong with you?" Terence asked in a whisper. Mr. Lundom started lecturing about some sort of vague topic I couldn't focus on.

"Soccer game today. First of the season," I explained, drumming my heels against my chair.

Terence still looked mystified by my behavior, but he didn't comment again. Non-athletes just couldn't understand how I was feeling at the moment.

I went through the rest of the day in a sort of daze, not paying very much attention to my surroundings, or really understanding what anyone said to me. The only voices that were clear to my ears belonged to Max, Gazzy, and Iggy.

At lunch, Max and I sat silently, staring off into space. Nudge was babbling even more feverishly than usual, filling our ears with talk of everything and anything that popped into her mind. Gazzy was dealing with the anticipation his own way, which meant he was busily disassembling a large and complicated piece of machinery, his lunch cast off to the side. I didn't even bother asking where he had got it from. Gazzy had his ways.

Iggy and Terra didn't bother trying to talk to us, and instead conversed with Ella, who was acting surprisingly normal. She just seemed bubblier than usual, but maybe that was my imagination. Ella always seemed too peppy for me to fully comprehend. I just didn't understand what there was she was so thrilled about all the time.

"Fang, are you planning on eating your fingers?" Max asked suddenly, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "No, I was going to eat my sandwich," I replied slowly, wondering if the excitement of the game had gotten to her brain somehow.

"What sandwich?" Max asked, obviously amused for some reason. I looked down at the sandwich in my hands, about to correct her, when I realized that my food had disappeared.

"Where'd it go?" I asked stupidly, feeling slightly lost for a moment.

Max laughed at the expression on my face, the determined look of concentration she had worn all day disappearing instantly. "You ate it, you idiot!" she gasped through her laughter.

I frowned at my empty fingers. I had no recollection of finishing my sandwich. "No I didn't," I insisted.

"I watched you eat it," Max informed me, finally recovering from her laughter and settling for a wide grin instead. "I saw you put the last bite in your mouth, chew, and swallow literally thirty seconds ago!"

"I didn't eat it," I declared, my tone final. I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously. "Maybe you ate it, Max," I accused.

Max's eyes widened almost comically. "I didn't eat it," she protested, flailing her hands around. "I have my own! You ate your freaking sandwich!"

"I don't remember it, though," I argued. "So obviously you took it while I was spacing out so you could laugh at me."

Max rolled her eyes. "Fang, I solemnly swear on my beautiful golden cleats that I didn't eat your freaking sandwich."

Max had recently gotten new cleats, as her old ones had suddenly split open mid-kick at practice last week. The new cleats were black, with a rich gold coloring each spike, and flowing up the heels and insteps. Max adored them, and had taken to cleaning them after every use, something she had never bothered to do with her old ones.

"Are you sure?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes at her.

Max looked shocked. "I swore on my cleats! The only thing more precious than them is my soul!"

"I'm still not convinced," I replied steadily. "I need proof."

"Do you want me to pump your stomach and show you the half-digested remains of your sandwich to show you?" Max asked snidely.

I chose to ignore her comment.

Gazzy looked up from the tangle of wire and metal he was dismantling, an exasperated expression on his face. "Fang, before you do anything idiotic, you ate your sandwich. Max didn't eat it. Deal, okay?" he drawled. Max and Terra laughed, but I scowled at him.

"The truth is a cruel, cruel thing, Fangles," Max informed me, her wide smile not quite fitting with her words of wisdom.

"I still think you ate it," I muttered. Before anyone could say anything else, I stood up from the table, tossed my empty lunch bag in a trash can, and strode quickly out of the cafeteria.

Behind me, I could hear Gazzy saying, quite loudly, "Fang is an ass, you know?"

"Yeah," Max agreed, almost fondly. "But he's our ass."

Lovely.

I pushed open the cafeteria doors, and headed outside. There was a vague plan in my mind to roam the hallways until art, but I had over half an hour to kill before the class began. I meandered over to my locker as slowly as I could, trying to burn some time.

It took three minutes.

I sighed, fiddling with the combination lock for about thirty seconds before it popped open. As I took out my binder for art, my gaze landed on my sketchbook. I hadn't drawn freestyle in awhile- in art we had been doing assigned drawing with oil pastels and colored pencils.

Doodling would be an excellent way to kill time.

Grabbing the sketchbook, I slammed the locker shut and set off down the hallway. Ms. Rykitel wasn't in her room yet, so I settled myself on the ground beside her door. I examined my pencil case for a moment, digging around first for a good eraser. It took a moment of searching, but I finally discovered one tucked into the back. Once I had fished it out, I picked up a pencil at random and flipped to a clean page in my sketchbook.

My pencil hesitated for a moment over the surface of the paper, swirling patterns midair. What did I want to draw?

Finally, the tip of the pencil hit the paper, sketching out a slightly pointed chin, surrounded by a curtain of light-colored hair. The shoulders appeared, strong and broad, followed by the slender curves of the torso. The torso melted into the hips, which stretched out into legs, one crossed haughtily over the other. The feet were last, clad in a pair of tattered black Converse.

My pencil reached back up to the shoulders, sketching the arms in a crossed position over the torso. I finished the body off by shaping in the rest of the head, covered in long, light hair that reached her elbows. Several pale wisps fell into her darkly shaded eyes. Then her mouth appeared, curving into a knowing smile. I drew in a straight nose, and dotted a few freckles in the right spots.

Once the details of her face were done, I stopped drawing. A smile tugged at my own mouth as I surveyed the sketch.

I didn't need to draw in the clothing details to know that this was Maximum Ride.

Max had been appearing in my drawings more and more often lately. My freestyle drawing usually tended to be a place where I unleashed my thoughts, so I knew that there was something significant about her almost constant presence in them. However, I couldn't really determine what it was. Max was my best friend, that was true. Was that fact enough to make her constantly in my thoughts? Iggy was also my best friend, as was Gazzy, yet neither of them appeared in my drawings half as much as Max did.

_They're just not as pretty as her_, a mischievous little voice reasoned in my head. I smiled again at the thought, but it didn't quite ring true. There was a deeper reason, I was sure.

The most puzzling thing about this drawing was that it only showed  
Max. Yet, today I had been focused completely on the soccer game. Not a single shred of soccer had appeared in this drawing. It was only Max.

Strange.

"What's with you, Max?" I wondered aloud. The drawing remained silent, smiling at me confidently in true Max Ride fashion.

"Yo, Fangles!"

Speak of the devil. "Hi Max," I replied, not looking up from my drawing.

Max plopped down next to me, but I still didn't look up from the drawing. "Whatcha drawing?" she inquired.

I looked up at her to reply, but stopped mid breath, completely thrown by her appearance. "What the hell?" I shouted, making Max jump in surprise. "What happened to your face, Max?" Before I could think properly about my actions, I grabbed her face in my hands and started inspecting the damage.

Max grinned at me, displaying a cut lip. "Isn't it beautiful?" she asked fondly, reaching a hand up to her eye.

It was horribly bruised, her eye swelling until it was half-shut. "Who gave you a black eye?" I demanded, tracing a finger around the outline of it.

Max winced at my touch, slapping my hands away from her face. "Don't worry, I gave them a good pounding. Is that me?" she asked cheerfully, peering over at my drawing instead of answering my question. I slammed the sketchbook shut. "Answer the question," I ordered, daring her to try and distract me again.

Max huffed, falling silent for a moment. We stared each other down, Max defiantly glaring at me out of one brown eye. "None of your business," she growled finally.

"Yeah it is," I disagreed. "Besties, remember?"

"Dammit, I forgot," Max muttered. I didn't smile, my gaze trained solely on the swollen, reddish condition of her left eye.

"Please?" I asked softly, breaking the silence that had fallen again. "I need to know who to kill," I added in way of explanation.

Max finally smiled, the cut on her lip widening further. She didn't seem to notice. "Oh, thanks for the offer, but I already took care of him. If you think this is bad," Max gestured towards her black eye, "you should see the other guy."

I smiled reluctantly, knowing that Max was fully capable of dispatching anyone who bothered her. Apparently she had taken tae kwon do from age six to until she moved to California. Max had displayed her amazing skills for us on Ford in soccer practice one day. Even though Ford was literally seven inches taller than her, she took him out easily. This gained her mucho respect points from the rest of the team. "But really, Max," I persisted. "Who pissed you off this time?"

Max grimaced, as if there was a sour taste stuck in her mouth. "Max II," she finally said, flipping my sketchbook open and studying my drawings so she didn't have to look at me.

I scowled at the sound of his name. "That bastard," I growled, clenching my fists. The pencil in my hand snapped in half.

Max looked alarmed, standing up and beginning to pace the hallway in front of me. "Fang, don't worry," she ordered. "I beat him up for it. He was just being a jerk, so I took him down a few pegs. Actually, more than a few. Closer to forty seven or so."

Max was trying to get me to smile, I knew it. She didn't want me to take this so seriously.

But nobody can punch Max in the face without dealing with me, and definitely not if they had already messed with her so much. Not even if she had already kicked their butt. "Permission to kill?" I asked seriously, looking up at Max.

She paused, looking thoughtful. "Permission denied," Max decided. "We can't get you kicked off the soccer team for fighting, now can we?"

I opened my mouth, ready to tell her off for being a hypocrite, when Ms. Rykitel bustled down the hallway. "Hello, Max, hello Fang," she greeted us cheerfully, apparently not noticing Max's black eye.

"Hi Ms. Rykitel!" Max chirped sweetly. I nodded to the teacher, following her inside as she unlocked the door.

"So I've heard that the Mustangs have a pretty strong defense," Max told me conversationally, skillfully shading her left eye with a thick shield of hair.

I looked at her blankly for a moment. "Mustangs?" I echoed, confused.

Max rolled her eyes. "The team we're playing today? The Daleview Mustangs? Whom we must crush at all costs?" Max reminded me.

"Oh. Right," I remembered. Max facepalmed, wincing as she slapped her bruised eye. I had a good reason for forgetting even this huge event, though. Max's black eye had driven everything else out of my mind. "Are you okay?" I asked, watching as she carefully rearranged the curtain of hair over her left eye. "Other than the fact that you look totally emo now?" I added, eyeing her hairstyle.

Max gave me a pointed look. "Who are you calling emo? When was the last time you wore any color other than black?" she retorted.

"Black is fashionable," I replied airily. Max looked floored by my response, so I flashed her a bright smile.

She shook her head slowly, as if trying to wrap her mind around my words. "I can't believe you just said that," Max mused.

"How are you going to hide that shiner from Anne, anyway?" I asked curiously, gesturing back to her black eye.

Max grimaced. "I have no idea. I would just sweat off concealer or something. What do you think?"

"Well, we can't have you kicked off the team for fighting," I mimicked her. Max scowled, looking like she was about to retort with something, so I continued hurriedly. "Just say you got hit in the face with a locker door, or you ran into a wall," I suggested. "You're uncoordinated enough that Anne would believe it."

Max elbowed me roughly. "Jerk. I am the epitome of coordination, Fangles," she scoffed.

"What about when you tripped over the sock Gazzy left lying on the field?" I challenged.

Max looked annoyed. "That was one time," she argued stubbornly.

I rolled my eyes at her before looking at Ms. Rykitel, who was starting class.

Just one more period, then we would be out on the field.

MPOV

Fang and I had practically sprinted out of art class as soon as the bell rang. Consequentially, once we had dumped stuff from our lockers to our backpacks, we were the first ones in the locker rooms.

I breathed in the now familiarly sweaty-sugar cookie scent of the locker room air, trying to calm my racing heart. I loved games, far more than practice, and I couldn't wait to start playing. Idly, I wondered if the style of soccer played in California would be different from Nevadan soccer.

It took me a little longer than usual to perform the combination to my locker. I slipped off my sneakers first, stuffing them unceremoniously inside. I removed my beautiful new cleats from the top shelf instead, and laid them gently on the bench next to me.

I pulled my new Lynxes uniform out of a pocket of my backpack, and extracted my shinguards from my locker, putting them beside my cleats. Then, I crammed my backpack into the locker and started to change out of my school clothes and into my uniform.

It was a really nice uniform, the jersey fitting silkily around my shoulders and the shorts loose and comfortable. I smiled as I stood up and surveyed myself in the long mirror set along one wall.

Red was a good color for me, I had to say that.

Just as I was pulling my socks up over my shinguards, Sadie and Liz appeared in the doorway, each lugging backpacks. "Hey Max," Liz chirped, obviously pumped out of her normal quietness by her excitement for the first game. Sadie nodded in greeting, and I smiled in return.

"Hi Liz, Sadie," I replied. "Ready to kick some Mustang butt?"

"Heck yeah," Sadie murmured, a huge smile blossoming on her face.

"They won't know what hit them," Liz declared, shaking her jersey in her fist to emphasize her point.

"What's that noise?" Sadie asked suddenly, straightening to listen. I stilled halfway through tying my shoe laces, wondering what Sadie had heard.

"Oh no," I groaned when I recognized the sound. "Prepare yourselves."

Ella, Nudge, Lauri, Juliann, and Rosanna burst into the locker room, yelling at the top of their lungs.

_THROUGH THE DISTRICT,__  
__DOWN THE STREET,__  
__WHO'S THE TOUGHEST TEAM TO BEAT?__  
__CROMWELL! LYNXES! YEAH!_

"Yay, school spirit," I mumbled, leaning down over my shoelaces once more.

"Come on, Max," Rosanna chirped, plunking down on the bench beside me. "Show a little firepower!"

"FIYAH POWAH!" Juliann screeched from across the room, obviously agreeing with her best friend.

"No thanks," I replied, smiling at Rosanna. "I'll save my firepower for the field."

"Agreed," Sadie mumbled, casting a wary look at Nudge, who seemed on the verge of having a seizure from overexcitement.

Once I was finished dressing, I finger-combed through the largest knots in my hair several times before securing it tightly back in place in a ponytail. Over this I pulled a maroon headband to keep back any stray wisps of hair. I didn't want any hair to get in the way of my playing.

"Hey Max, do you think Anne will- HOLY MOTHER OF TURTLES!" Lauri shrieked. I jumped, startled by her outburst, and whirled to face Lauri, who was gaping at me like I had grown another head. "Maximum I-don't-know-your-middle-name Ride, where did you get that black eye?" Lauri demanded. Her arms were trapped inside her jersey, but her head was poking out of the neck hole quite comically. I found it difficult to take her seriously.

"Turtles?" someone snickered.

"Her middle name is Riesra," Ella informed Lauri, sounding disinterested. "And don't worry, Laurs. Max gets injuries like normal people breathe. She's fine."

"At least you don't play goalie, too," Lauri grumbled, tapping the gloves she was carrying. Lauri turned and went back to her locker, and Ella grinned at me.

I felt a sudden rush of gratitude for my sister. "Thanks, Ells," I whispered to her, smiling.

"You're telling me the whole thing later," Ella whispered back.

I grimaced. "I know. I'm more dreading explaining it to Anne."

Once everyone was dressed, we filed out of the locker room together, heading over to the part of the field where Anne had instructed us to warm up. Some of the guys were already there, stretching out and passing the ball around. One of them ran up to me as I stepped onto the field, and I almost didn't recognize him in his uniform.

"What's up, bestie?" the guy asked teasingly, his dark eyes sparkling with laughter, even though his voice was completely serious.

"Fang!" I choked out after a moment of staring at him. "You aren't wearing black!"

"Well, duh," Fang scoffed, pulling self-consciously at his scarlet jersey.

It hadn't really occurred to me that Fang couldn't wear his usual black attire during the game. It just seemed too strange to comprehend him wearing anything but black, yet here he was. He looked almost… normal, dressed in red and silver like everyone else. Only his cleats, hair, and eyes were still black.

_And his boxers, too_, a voice snickered in my head. I shoved it aside immediately, almost blushing at the very thought.

"Fang!" Nudge shrieked, popping up beside me. "You look so weird, I mean, like, wearing red instead of black! It's so strange to see you in colors, isn't it Max?" she babbled, her eyes wide as she took in Fang's appearance.

"This is slightly scary," Ella commented as she dribbled a ball over to survey Fang in uniform. "I can't really process that this is actually you, Fang. Are you sure you're not an imposter?"

Fang smiled slightly, and without a word stole the ball resting under her foot, dribbled away, and performed the complicated original move he had named On Wings.

Fang passed the ball back to Ella and smiled again. "Could an imposter do that?" he asked simply.

"Probably not," Ella replied agreeably. "But I just can't believe that you aren't wearing black."

"They wouldn't let me play if I wasn't in uniform," Fang point out logically.

"But still!" Ella insisted. "This is just… just… "

Gazzy popped up behind us, slinging his arms recklessly around Nudge's and my shoulders. "You'll get used to it," he assured us, grinning widely. "The competitive team we play on together wears blue and white uniforms. Seeing Fang in that is a shock to the senses, I'll tell you," Gazzy added mischievously, "and not just 'cause he's an ugly little boy."

I ruffled Gazzy's hair, causing him to unlatch himself from Nudge and I, scowling slightly. "Don't hate on Fang just 'cause you're ugly too, Gasser," I teased. "It's not nice." Before Gazzy could say anything else, I quickly added, "So your knee is all better, I take it?"

Gazzy looked down at his left knee. It was encased in a black cloth brace, but the swelling had gone down, and he was walking normally again. "It's fine," Gazzy informed me. "I told you it wasn't a big deal. But what about your black eye, missy?" he asked shrewdly.

I rolled my eyes at him. "It's not a problem," I assured him. "I can see just fine."

"Let's see what Anne has to say about that," Gazzy replied seriously. He cracked a sudden grin, and winked at me. "Fighting is against the school rules, Maximum!"

"I wasn't fighting," I protested, trying to look shocked by his accusation.

Gazzy held up a hand to stop my protests. "Please. I saw Max II go down like a blue whale in an elevator," he told me, mischief lighting up his eyes. "I can't believe he was my friend before. He's been a jerk ever since you and Ella transferred here," Gazzy mused.

"He's just jealous of us," Ella scoffed, striking a pose. Nudge, Gazzy and I burst out laughing at the ridiculous expression on her face, and Fang just rolled his eyes at my sister.

Suddenly, the now-familiar piercing voice boomed across the field. "Lynxes, over here!" Anne commanded. We whirled around to see her standing by a bench on the sideline, her ever-present clipboard clutched in one hand.

We all congregated around our coach, inspecting each other in our new uniforms and discussing the Mustangs, who had begun to straggle onto their side of the field to warm up.

"This is it," Anne declared, earning instant silence. "First game of the season, and we need to show those Mustangs that Cromwell High is a force to be reckoned with. Let's take it to them!"

"Heck yeah!" Lauri crowed, high-fiving Ford with a loud smack.

"Let's have a nice, brisk warm-up," Anne decided. "Look sharp, and remember that the way you warm up is the way you're going to play."

"Ok, we get it," Devon assured her. "Let's get on with it."

"Patience, Dev," Danny soothed, his voice teasing. "Become one with the field. Breathe in, breathe out."

"Shut up," Devon replied promptly.

"Silence," Anne ordered. "Gazzy, how's your knee?"

"Good as new," Gazzy announced, wiggling his knee at Anne. "And I got a nifty brace for it, too."

"Good," Anne decided. "You can play, then. Rosanna will still be switching with you periodically though."

"I guess Rosie can kick some Mustang butt for me," Gazzy agreed reluctantly. Rosanna nodded cheekily, sticking her tongue out at Gazzy.

We were all turning to go begin warm ups, when Anne stopped us in our tracks. "Max, what happened to your eye?" Anne asked quietly, her tone laced with danger.

I blinked innocently, as if not understanding. "What do you mean, Anne?" I asked sweetly.

Anne looked almost amused for a moment, before her expression became stern once more. "You have a black eye, Ride. Have you been fighting?" she demanded.

I touched my left eye, like I had just remembered it was there. "Oh! This?" I asked, smiling carelessly. "Fang hit me in the eye with his locker door at lunch," I invented swiftly, trying to sound nonchalant. "I wasn't fighting."

Anne looked exasperated now. "Why does this team have a habit of hurting their own players?" she muttered, half to herself. She cast a pointed glance towards Lucas and Gazzy, then at Fang. "Whatever. Tell me if it's bothering you, Max, okay?" Anne told me. I nodded, already knowing I wouldn't say anything.

"Well, it makes you look pretty badass," Juliann offered.

I grinned at her. "Yeah, I guess," I acknowledged. "Those Mustangs will fear the Girl with the Black Eye!"

"Ooh, that reminds me!" Nudge squealed suddenly. "Nicknames! You, Fang, and Gazzy are the Running R's! No, no. The… Knights of the Ri Table! No… I don't like that. Umm, the Rapturously R's! No, no…" Nudge babbled, obviously immune to our looks of horror.

Fang shot me a pointed look, but I ignored him. Gazzy looked pained, and not just because of his knee. "Sorry," I muttered, trying to ignore Nudge's shouts of progressively sillier and sillier nicknames.

"You suck," Gazzy replied conversationally. "I'm going to murder you in your sleep, Max."

"Save it for the Mustangs," I retorted.

We went through our warm-ups quickly and methodically, throwing glances over at the Mustangs every chance we got. They wore yellow jerseys and black shorts and socks, and were laughing and joking. They didn't seem to be worrying about the upcoming game.

"Hey Max, look," Ella murmured, passing the ball off to Danny before falling into line behind me. "There's only four girls on the other team."

I glanced over at the Mustangs again. Ella was right, there were only four girls in the yellow-and-black uniforms. All four were very tall: two blondes, one brunette, and the last with short black hair. The rest of the team were boys, and most of them were shorter than the girls. "That's weird," I said to Ella finally, my eyes still on the taller blonde. "They either have a sexist coach or most of the girls at Daleview don't play soccer."

"Good thing you don't go there," Gazzy snickered, popping into line behind Ella. "You wouldn't survive, Max!"

Danny passed the ball to me, and I was forced to dribble away before I could think of a good reply.

"Captains!" one of the referees bellowed from where he stood at the half line.

"Gazzy, Max, you two are captains!" Anne directed. Gazzy and I grinned at each other, running towards the center of the field.

The Daleview captains were both boys, one short and tanned, the other tall and pale. The short guy had jet black hair, and the taller one was blond, and both positively radiated cockiness. "One of their captains is a girl, and the other is a cripple. Pathetic," the short one whispered loudly to his friend, sneering at me. 

I narrowed my eyes at him, and started cracking my knuckles with audible pops. The tall boy looked slightly alarmed, but the short one simply kept sneering.

"Beat them up, Max," Gazzy murmured to me, grinning wickedly. I grunted in response, keeping my eyes on the short boy.

None of the three referees appeared to hear anything we said. Instead, the man who had called us over stepped forward and nodded to us. "Daleview, Cromwell, shake hands," he ordered.

I locked eyes with the short boy as I stepped towards him. I towered about four inches over his head, but he seemed unperturbed by the height difference. Instead, he just smiled mockingly at me, and shook my hand daintily, as if it were made of glass.

I crushed his fingers as hard as I could, staring him down. "I'm Max," I growled, releasing his hand quickly.

The boy smirked. "Jose," he replied, his voice syrupy sweet.

I switched my gaze to the taller boy, who was at my eye level. He held out his hand, and I crushed it in turn, stating coldly at him out of my good eye. "Jake," he offered, trying to smile.

"Max," I repeated shortly.

"I'm Zephyr," Gazzy informed Jose, shaking his hand energetically. Jose looked disgusted, and pulled his hand away quickly. Gazzy didn't appear to notice, as he had already begun pumping Jake's hand wildly up and down. He was acting positively bubbly, smiling brightly at Jose, Jake, and the pretty sideline ref. She giggled in return, batting her eyelashes at him.

I wondered if she realized that Gazzy was only a freshman, however charismatic he was.

"Daleview are visitors, so they will call the coin toss," the head ref announced, producing a large coin from his pocket and showing it to both Daleview captains. "Heads or tails?" The ref flipped the coin into the air, where it spun, flashing, in the sunlight.

"Heads," Jake said, his eyes locked on the coin. It fell back to earth, plopping onto the turf in a flurry of black pellets.

Tails.

"Tails it is," the ref reported, bending down and picking up his coin. He turned to Gazzy and I. "Choose your side of the field to start off on," he told us, pocketing the coin again.

"This one," I replied firmly, pointing towards the half of the field the Lynxes were still warming up on. Gazzy nodded, confirming my decision.

"Okay then. Daleview has first kick off, we start in five ninutes," the ref announced.

Without another word or glance towards the Daleview captains, Gazzy and I set off back towards our team. "Lynxes, in!" Anne called, waving her clipboard around.

We circled up around her, everyone looking expectantly towards Gazzy and I. "We won the coin toss," I explained, "they have kick off and we start on this side."

"Good," Anne replied. Suddenly, a wide smile broke out on her face. "Did you intimidate them with your injuries?" she asked impishly. Gazzy grinned. "Is that what you were going for?" he asked. "If so, it worked. Max scared one of them pretty badly, and I could tell he was psyched out by me, but the other guy was an as- a jerk," Gazzy revised hastily, cleaning up his language in front of Anne.

"Well, it worked partially." Anne shrugged, her eyes sparkling. "Now let's get out there and wipe the field with them! Especially that, ah, jerk," Anne added, winking at Gazzy. "Now, lineup." Anne tapped her clipboard with her pen, her voice low and serious again. "Ford is starting in goal, with Nudge at sweeper, Ella stopper, Matt left defense, and Lucas right." Anne moved her pen to the midfield line, tapping each name in turn as she spoke it. "Danny at left mid, Max and Liz covering the middle, and Juliann at right. Gazzy and Fang up top striking.

"What's that sound I hear?" Anne bellowed suddenly, making us all jump with the volume of her voice.

"LYNXES!" Nudge shouted back, pumping her fist in the air excitedly.

"What's that sound I hear?" Anne yelled again.

"LYNXES!" We shouted back. Our voices echoed down the field.

"Bring it!" Anne ordered. Immediately, everyone who was starting ran onto the field and into position.

I could feel the adrenaline spiking through my veins, and despite the sight of Jose with the ball at the half line, I couldn't help the smile spreading across my face. I was ready to play.

**Umm yeah. Sorry. This turned out to be a lot longer than I expected, ****  
****so the game is gonna be next chapter. ^-^" Sorry!******

**I'm starting school again on Wednesday. Goody. So you can all expect ****  
****slower updates, too. =(******

**~TMI~**


	22. Lynxes vs Mustangs and Fang's Epiphany

**Oh joy. School. My history teacher scares the crap out of me.******

**I would have had this up much sooner, but frankly, I lost interest in writing this at halftime. XP Playing soccer is just so much more entertaining than writing about it! ******

**DEDICATED TO: my first flamer, avian-american-supporter! And also, to my lovely defender, AssassinationOfDylan! I appreciate that so much. =D******

**Gazzy: …I'm so confused…******

**Which reminds me! Someone asked if Ells was a mistake or done on purpose? I did mean to write Ells instead of Ella at certain points, yes. =D******

**FPOV**

I was completely focused on the ball at the foot of one of the Daleview forwards, utterly intent on getting possession. Nothing would distract me.

Well, except for that Mustangs forward. He wouldn't shut up, and his eyes were locked on Max, who was standing a few feet behind me, as he spoke.

I didn't like that.

"This will be a breeze, guys," the forward said loudly to his team. "Look at these guys. A cripple and an emo," he gestured to Gazzy and I, "leading the pack, with tons of girls on the team too. And their treasured captains are jokes. A girl with attitude problems and a crushed face, with a boy's name? Then the perky cripple? Right."

Several of the Mustangs snickered at the boy's words, but the dark-haired girl playing left mid gave him a distasteful look. It appeared that this forward wasn't loved by everyone.

"Oy! Jose, is it?" Max demanded from behind me, her voice ringing from across the field. "If you're gonna talk the talk, you better be ready to walk the walk. 'Cause I'm going to make you."

Jose didn't look happy, but the left mid girl looked appreciatively over at Max. I rolled my eyes. Max had a gift for making enemies and friends in two sentences, as demonstrated.

The referees seemed oddly deaf to Jose and Max's loud conversation, and started the game normally after a few moments. The other Mustang forward tapped the ball forward to Jose, and at the same time Gazzy sprinted forward and nabbed the ball away from Jose before he had even touched it. It was as if Gazzy had never had a knee injury in his life. He ran as smoothly and quickly as ever before.

If I hadn't been the one hauling Gazzy around school like a sack of potatoes, I would never have believed that yesterday he couldn't walk without assistance.

"Go Gazzy!" Max boomed from behind me, her voice carrying loudly across the field. "Everyone UP!"

While Max spoke, Gazzy had been sprinting forward, dribbling the ball quickly up the center of the field. I slipped over to the sidelines, running as quickly and quietly as I could.

The majority of the Mustangs' midfielders and defenders were focused on Gazzy's attack with the ball, so no one noticed me running up the right side. Juliann was shadowing my run about twenty feet behind me, and Liz was following Gazzy up the center. Max had slipped over to Gazzy's right, in between him and me, while Danny was covering the right line.

The offense was in perfect formation as a whole, and from Nudge's shouted orders behind ms, I could tell the defense was coming together nicely also.

At this point, the Mustangs coach had started yelling his lungs out. Gazzy's ability to juke every single one of his players seemed to irk the poor guy. "MARK AND JAKE, ATTACK TOGETHER! THE BOY IS DANCING AROUND YOU FOOLS! MARINA, IF YOU CAN'T STOP HIM THEN YOU'RE OFF THE TEAM!" the coach bellowed.

Anne simply smiled.

The girl playing left mid scowled at the sound of her coach's voice, and suddenly accelerated towards Gazzy. Gazzy kept going towards the goal, plowing through several players and skillfully juking the rest. However, for whatever reason, Gazzy didn't see the left mid, and she managed to kick the ball away from Gazzy and to another midfielder.

"LOOK, YOU LAZY EXCUSES FOR SOCCER PLAYERS! IF MARINA CAN TAKE IT FROM HIM, ALL OF YOU COULD!" the coach roared.

The girl, who I figured was Marina, scowled again, tossing her short ponytail in her coach's direction.

I didn't halt my run up the side, even though Gazzy had lost the ball, because I saw something that I doubted any of the other players saw. Juliann looked a bit confused when I glanced back at her, but she kept following me anyway.

Danny had ran towards the boy that Marina had passed to as soon as Gazzy lost the ball. Now the two boys were running side by side, Danny trying to take the ball from the Mustang player.

The thing that I was fairly sure no one else saw was Max. She sprinted in and cut across both boys' paths, nimbly stealing the ball right from under their noses. The Mustang player swore, but Danny grinned and changed direction, running back up the sideline again.

Max didn't keep the ball like Gazzy had, but immediately passed it off to Liz. In turn, Liz passed to Juliann, who crossed the ball back through the air to Danny on the other side of the field. Danny neatly trapped the ball under his right foot and started dribbling up the line.

The Mustangs seemed flabbergasted by our passing, frankly. Their coach kept roaring orders at them, but none of the players could follow them. We were just too fast for them.

Danny dribbled swiftly up the line, his long legs quickly outstripping the short defender trying to stop him. I closed in on the back of the goal box, Juliann peeling off to wait by the center. Max and Liz were running up towards the middle of the box, and Gazzy covered the front post. The Mustang goalie screamed frantically at his defense, trying to get them into some sort of order.

He knew as well as I did there was no way we wouldn't score on this play.

Danny cut around the defender attempting to block his path, then slammed his foot into the ball, crossing it gracefully across the goal box. It sailed high over the heads of Max, Gazzy, Liz, and Juliann, heading straight for me. My eyes were locked on the ball as it began to descend, and I instantly analyze when it would drop to my level.

Less than a second later, I shoved away from the defender guarding me and sprinted towards the ball, closing my eyes at the last possible moment before impact. There was a dull pain on my forehead for a moment, and sudden loud cheering exploding behind me.

I opened my eyes to find the ball in the back of the net.

"BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL!" Anne kept screaming, waving her clipboard triumphantly from the sideline. "WELL DONE, FANG!"

Max grinned and high fived me as we trotted back down to our end of the field. "Nice one," she said, beaming at me.

"Thanks," I replied, smiling quickly back at her.

"Awesome, man," Gazzy murmured to me, fiddling neurotically with the hem of his jersey. "Let's do that a few more times."

Unfortunately, this was not to be. After our early goal, literally about four minutes into the game, we were hard-pressed to keep the ball. The Mustangs seemed to have finally woken up, and that forward Jose especially was trying his best tbreak through our defense.

Our defense, however, is pretty bad ass.

If you met Ella in the hallways at school, you might think she was a bit of a nerd, because of her knack with geometry and science. Possibly, you'd think she was also a bit of an airhead, because of her love of shoes, and fashion, and gossip. At the very least you would notice she was very bubbly and friendly to everyone she met, unless she had a valid reason not to be.

On the soccer field, she was another whole person. Ella was freaking scary playing stopper. She had this permenant scowl etched on her face, and her fists were clenched at her sides. Ella literally looked like she was about to commit a homicide.

All in all, Ella was showing quite a family resemblance with Max at the moment.

For the most part, Nudge looked as sweet and happy as ever at her position back at sweeper. However, when Jose the Jerk had managed to power his way through the rest of our defense, her cute little smile disappeared, replaced by a scowl worthy of Maximum Ride. She had raced towards Jose, and before he had a chance to react, Nudge had crashed into him, forcibly wrenching the ball away from him. Nudge then proceeded to dribble back up to the half line and booted the ball up to Max.

Jose was positively steaming as he jogged back into position. As he passed Nudge, he muttered something that didn't sound very complimentary. Nudge flashed him a bright smile in return, flipping her ponytail jauntily.

Max glanced towards Gazzy, who nodded almost imperceptibly and sprinted up to run beside her. Then without another look at him, Max peeled off to the left, quickly challenging a defender and juking around them. I smiled as I watched her continue up the line. The move she had used was one of my own, the one I called the Whiplash. Max insisted on referring to the move as something silly and overly long, which slightly aggravated me.

As long as she kept juking those defenders like that, she could call the move Voldemort's Revenge for all I cared.

Just as three defenders were descending on her, Max snapped off a powerful pass to her right, where Gazzy was lurking at the ready. He trapped the ball and headed further up the field, and when a Mustang midfielder moved to block him, he passed back to Max. They were completely in sync as they traveled up to the Mustangs goal again.

I slipped away from the girl guarding me and ran up along the right again. Everyone was preoccupied with Gazzy and Max's beautiful passing, and nobody noticed me curving up behind their defense. I jogged slowly, being careful not to make too much sound, and making sure I wasn't offsides.

Meanwhile, Gazzy and Max were still passing in dizzyingly precise patterns around the Mustangs, conquering the whole defense by themselves. Juliann, Danny, and Liz hovered behind them for back up, but they knew better than to interrupt Gazzy and Max's passing rhythm.

Finally, the Mustangs swarmed three players on Gazzy and four on Max, who had the ball. Without a second of hesitation, Max passed the ball off to Juliann, who stood waiting about ten yards behind her. Juliann instantly launched the ball over everyone's heads, and I sprang into action.

After first checking one last time to be sure I wasn't offsides, I locked my eyes on the ball and ran forward as quickly as I could. The Mustangs goalie saw me coming, and sprinted out with his arms spread out widely to try to intercept the pass before I got there.

It didn't work.

Just as the goalie dove at the still descending ball, I trapped it under my foot and performed a reckless Maradona around his sprawled body. I smiled at the open goal that greeted me, and sent the ball spinning into the net.

"GOOOOOAAALLL!" Max shrieked, sounding almost irrationally excited. "Go FANG! You rock!"

"Enjoy this while it lasts, buddy," Gazzy informed me, grinning widely as we trotted back to the half line. "Max will be back to normal by the end of the game. Nice moves there, by the way."

"Thanks," I murmured, allowing myself another smile before concentrating back on the ball.

Jose and the other forward looked infuriated by my lovely goal-scoring prowess. They whispered to each other heatedly, neither looking very pleased. I ignored them, focusing on the ball at their feet.

As soon as they tapped the ball forward, Gazzy rocketed forward. Jose crashed roughly into him, managing to keep possession of the ball and continuing forward. I started at him too, kicking the ball away from this Jose character. He glared at me, and I looked impassively back before he huffed and turned to try and retrieve the ball again.

Both of the teams were pretty evenly matched, despite our 2-0 lead. The Mustangs managed a few shots on goal, but Ford pulled off some spectacular saves. Our shut-out held.

We fought hard and roughly against each other for the ball, and there was no mercy involved whatsoever. Max and the girl named Marina had a spot of trouble at one point, and the two had almost knocked each other out with all of the pushing and shoving they performed.

I personally witnessed Nudge and Ella intentionally sandwiching one of the Mustang forwards, HARD. Gazzy whooped, and Danny let out a shrill whistle, causing both girls to blush.

At the second quarter, Anne pulled Gazzy out and subsituted Rosanna. The first play she made was almost a third goal, because the defense had gravely underestimated her ability. They probably glanced at her, thought 'short, pretty girl- no prob', and almost got their asses kicked. Literally. Rosanna was very close to cleating the Mustang sweeper hard in the rear, but he had managed to get out of the way just in time.

Now they were taking Rosanna much more seriously.

Jose jogged over to one of the midfielders and started whispering in his ear. I watched them out of the corner of my eye, but they weren't even involved in the current play, so after a minute, I ignored them. Rosanna, Max, and Danny were up with the ball, and I had just begun to follow them when I heard, "Tail number fourteen, until he gets an idea, Marco."

I smiled tightly. This could be fun.

The Mustang goalie managed to wrangle the ball away from Rosanna, and dropkicked it hard down the field. I ran to get it, and the guy Jose had whispered to, Marco, followed me closely. By performing several cuts, a Whiplash/Voldemort's Revenge, and a quick Croif, I managed to shake the guy off without too much trouble. I dribbled quickly away from him, then passed the ball off to Juliann.

"COME ON MARCO, DEAL WITH THE GUY ALREADY!" the Mustangs coach screamed. Marco didn't look happy, and set his jaw as he ran back over to me.

Bring it on.

The Marco guy tailed me for the rest of the quarter, but it didn't trouble me too much to have to shake him off. His coach's screams got louder and louder with each juke I performed.

Nobody was tailing Max and Gazzy though, which could play very easily to our advantage. Truth be told, the pair of them could defeat anybody on the field when working together. They seemed to click really well, for some reason.

A tendril of jealousy drifted through my stomach. I looked down in surprise, almost as if I could see it there, starkly green against my red uniform. Why should I be jealous of Max and Gazzy? They were two of my best friends. Plus, it was extremely fortunate for our team that they were so in tune on the soccer field.

On a totally unrelated thought, I suddenly remembered my drawing from earlier. It was only Max, nothing else. Was I subconsciously thinking her more important than anything else, for whatever reason? Something gnawed at my mind, but I couldn't really define what it was.

"FANG! Heads up!" Lucas screamed. I shook out of my thoughts just in time to see a ball hurtling through the air towards me. More instinctively than anything else, I rolled off of Marco's back and whirled in front of him, volleying the ball straight up the field. Rosanna and Danny chased it, grappling with defender after defender on their journey towards the goal.

I needed to get my head in the game. I'd think philosophically later. Right now, it was soccer time. Gritting my teeth, I ran up the field to help Rosanna with the ball.

In what felt like no time at all, the first half was over. The referee blasted his whistle at us, tooted it again in case we didn't get the point, and trilled one last note before finally hanging it back around his neck. "Shut up already," Ella groaned, glaring at the referee's back as he walked away.

"Well done, boys and girls, well done," Anne praised, smiling at us over her clipboard. No one replied, as we were all too busy chugging our drinks. It was hot out, suddenly, after having been cool all week. "Beautiful goals, Fang, the both of them," she added, nodding proudly at me. I flashed her a quick smile in return before downing the rest of my Gatorade. "Now we have a decision to make. Should we push and hold, or play cat and mousie with them?" Anne asked, getting a dangerously devious sparkle in her eye.

I was reminded frighteningly of Max.

"Push and hold!" Gazzy immediately voted, pumping his fist up.

"I agree," Ford drawled. "It'll be entertaining to watch that cocky forward's face."

There were many murmured comments of agreement. Anne grinned wickedly, not at all acting like the responsible coach she should be. "True," she conceded, making no attempt to disguise her amusement. "And as we need to protect our cripple crew's pride here, I nominate Gazzy and Max to be our elected goal scorers this half. Only they are allowed to shoot."

"What? That sucks!" Devon complained, looking surly.

"You'll get your chance, Dev. Just think about how funny it'll be to see that forward's face if one of our beloved captains score!" Danny coaxed.

Devon looked annoyed for a moment, but slowly a small smile broke out on his face. "You should be a lawyer, Danny boy," he muttered under his breath. Danny grinned, ruffling Devon's hair. Despite that Danny was a senior and Devon a freshman, along with the undeniable fact that Devon was a sourpuss and Danny the stereotypical nice boy, the two seemed to be the best of friends.

Max fistpumped, and high-fived Gazzy. "Heck yeah!" she cried, grinning wildly. "I'm gonna give that Jose jerk what's coming to him! That sexist idiot!"

"Go Max!" Sadie cheered, surprising all of us with her sudden vehemence.

"Okay everyone, settle down," Anne ordered, wiping the smile off of her face. "We're gonna play this half like it's still 0-0 tie, okay? Gazzy and Max are up top, Danny, Liz, Fang and Sadie are midfield left to right. Defense is Jack left wing, Ford right wing, Ella stopper and Nudge sweeper. Lauri, you're in goal. Let's play hard, fast, and strong. Don't be merciful. Because do you know who isn't merciful to their enemies?" Anne demanded, pumping her clipboard up and down.

"LYNXES!" Nudge shouted, startling all of us.

How did Nudge always know when to do that?

"WHO ARE WE?" Anne yelled.

"LYNXES!"

"Well get out there and show me!" she ordered, waving us off onto the field. I threw down my Gatorade bottle, marching off onto the field.

Gazzy and Max settled at the half line with the ball, quietly  
conferring with each other as we waited for the referees to be ready. I felt that same tentacle of jealousy wrap around my abdomen for a moment before I brushed it away, trying to focus on the game. It was no time to brood.

The Jose kid sauntered onto the field again, wrinkling his nose at Max disdainfully. I could see her smiling cheekily at him in return, and barely suppressed a smile of my own. Max was just too… Max.

The ref blew his whistle again, and once more the game had begun.

Lightning fast, Gazzy tapped the ball forward, and instantly Max was dribbling up the center. I trailed her about ten feet away, ready for a pass-back if she ran into trouble.

Trouble came in the form of our delightful friend Jose, who darted at Max so quickly it seemed he thought she was about to disappear. Max performed another perfect Whiplash, effectively juking him. I smiled, feeling very proud of both my move and Max performing it so well.

Then, things went south.

Jose, apparently, was getting tired of Max juking him so badly, and decided to take matters into his own hands. When Max was running past him, he shot out a hand and grabbed a fistful of Max's jersey, jerking her backwards.

Surprised by the sudden force pulling her backwards, Max didn't have time to adjust. She was yanked backwards, flying right into Jose's arms and knocking him onto the grass.

The ref blew his whistle yet again, starting to jog over to the prone Max and Jose.

Max looked rather shocked. She didn't even try to struggle away from Jose's grasp, she was so confused by what had happened.

I, on the other hand was feeling extremely pissed. I marched over to where Jose lay sprawled with Max in his arms and roughly pulled her up by the underarms. Max backed into my chest, the top of her head hovering in front of my nose. "You asshole!" Max hissed, quiet enough so the ref couldn't hear, but with a truckload of venom laced in. "What was that for?"

"You shouldn't be playing my game, girlie," Jose snarled back as he stood up, his eyes glinting nastily. "So if you do, I can punish you as I please."

I was itching to just go punch the crap out of this guy, and I could tell by the way Max had tensed up that she was too. Good. We could beat him up together.

What great bonding time that would be.

Sadly, before we could rearrange Jose's face for him free of charge, the ref appeared next to Jose. He rummaged around in the pocket of his yellow shirt, finally fishing out the item I was hoping for. A small rectangular card, made of bright yellow plastic.

"Intentional jersey-pulling! Yellow card!" Ref announced, flashing the yellow card over Jose's head. Jose scowled, crossing his arms, but he didn't dare say anything to the ref. "Free kick awarded to Cromwell," the ref continued, retrieving the ball and placing it roughly in the spot where Max and Jose had fallen.

Max stepped awkwardly away from me, not meeting my eyes. I smoothed out my expression, but internally I was deathly curious to know what exactly had caused Max's cheeks to turn pink.

I didn't have time to dwell on it, though, as Max and Gazzy were heading up the field, followed by the midfield in our precise formation. I shook my head slightly and jogged up into place as Ella prepared to take the free kick.

The ball sailed neatly over everyone's heads, the product of Ella's powerful kick. It landed neatly under Gazzy's foot at the top of the goal box, where he started juggling defenders in order to maintain possession. Quickly, Danny swooped in, and Gazzy passed off to him. Danny sent the ball to Liz, who passed to me. I dribbled up closer to the goal for a few steps before passing to Sadie where she was lurking by the sideline. Sadie dribbled further in, juking one of the defenders with a neat stepover before passing to Max, who stood, surprisingly alone, in the middle of the box.

Max had a good shot from where she stood. If I hadn't known her, I would have said she had a sixty-forty chance of scoring. Since I did know her, I bumped it up to seventy-thirty. Max could sink the shot, but it might be tricky.

Max had about two seconds to shoot before the Mustang defense realized their mistake and swarmed her. However, she didn't take the shot.

Come on, Max, I found myself thinking. Just shoot already!

But Max didn't shoot. In fact, she didn't even glance towards the goal. Instead, she pulled the most perfect Croif I had ever seen and passed straight across the goal to Gazzy, who was waiting, defenderless, to tap the ball into the waiting net.

The goalie was dumbfounded. He didn't even have a chance, not against Max and Gazzy. They were a perfect team.

We all flooded back to our side of the field, grinning and  
congratulating Max and Gazzy. Nobody mentioned the little incident between Max and Jose that had started the play in the first place.

At the new start, Jose's buddy passed forward to him, and he took it and rocketed off down the field. Jack tracked him all the way, matching him stride for stride and continuing to poke at the ball. Nudge hovered in the middle of our half, looking grim and purposeful. Jose managed to shake off Jack, and burst into our goal box. Nudge crashed headlong into him, sending Jose spinning off to the side and allowing time for Lauri to sprint out and dive on the ball. Safe.

Jose glowered at Nudge, who pointedly ignored him.

Lauri punted the ball, sending it halfway up the field, straight to Sadie. Sadie trapped the ball on her thigh, dropped it to her feet, and passed off quickly to Max.

Max dribbled swiftly up the center, deciding not use any moves, and instead turning up the speed and flying by any Mustangs who challenged her. I followed her up the center, keeping a close eye on Jose. Luckily, he was far away from Max at the moment, so I didn't have to worry.

Max passed off to Liz, who dribbled further up the line before being ambushed by that one midfielder girl, Marina. Marina kicked the ball out of Liz's reach, but unfortunately for her, it came straight to me. I trapped it softly under my foot before surging straight through the center, bypassing two Mustangs and shaking off that guy Marco, who was still lingering around me.

I was shooting towards the goal now, the wind rushing in my ears and adrenaline pumping through my veins. I was at the top of my game. I could do this.

Then suddenly, something crashed into my side, throwing me off balance. I staggered slightly to the side, managing to pull the ball with me, before looking up. My attacker was none other than Marina the Mustang Midfielder, and her attention was focused solely on the black and silver ball at my feet.

So she wanted to play rough? I can play rough.

I pulled my elbow in at an angle, and jammed it unmercifully into Marina's ribs. She gasped out, but stayed at my side, trying to revoke the ball from my possession.

Soooo not gonna happen.

Finally, I shouldered her forcibly out of the way, leaving me an open trail to the goal.

Then, suddenly: TWEEEEET!

I groaned, pausing the ball at my feet and turning slowly to face the ref. "Foul by number fourteen. Free kick for Daleview," the ref intoned, gesturing at me.

I rolled my eyes and passed the ball back to that Marina girl before jogging back into position. Lousy ref- I hadn't even extended my arm! That push was perfectly legal.

While I was stewing over the injustice of the foul, Gazzy scored.

Apparently, while I was busy being annoyed and not paying attention to anything (we were three points up at the end of the third quarter- I had the right to slack off for a moment) Marina had performed a beautiful free kick straight to Jose. However, our dear friend Jose was just a mite too slow to the ball, and Gazzy had appeared in front of him, stolen the ball, and dribbled all the way up the field by himself. Finally, he juked the goalie out, causing them to fall flat on their side, and tapped the ball agonizingly slowly into the net to score one of his patented Gazzy Richards goals.

This is why Gazzy is our best player.

"GOOD ON YOU, GAZZY!" Anne bellowed, waving her clipboard like a maniac. Gazzy grinned, shot her a two-fingered salute, and jogged over to the sideline to sub out. Rosanna came in for him, looking refreshed and ready to kick ass.

Jose was pissed. I could tell by the way he was glaring at everyone and everything- the refs, Max, his own team mates- that he was convinced the game was rigged. Somehow, we had bribed the refs, fed his team magic potion that made them suck at soccer, and put a remote controlled guidance device inside the ball. Any explanation was more reasonable than the fact that we were simply better than them at soccer. Heavens forbid THAT be the case.

We played Keep-Away-From-The-Mustangs for the rest of the game, only trying to get the ball up to Max for an attempt for her to score. Throughout the remainder of the game, only a few interesting things happened.

Max was, as she put it, 'awarded' a yellow card for profanity and overenthusiastic pushing the Mustang defense around.

Gazzy was subsituted in, promptly received a yellow card for excessive shoving, and was immediately subsituted out again.

Max scored on a beautiful left-footed shot thirty yards out of the goal box.

Jose's forward buddy finally managed to score, and the Mustangs acted like they were suddenly up six-zero.

Lauri flipped out about letting the goal in and almost attacked Jose for bragging too much. Only Ford forcibly restraining her kept her from leaving her goal box and pounding the crap out of Jose.

Also, as the finishing touch, I received a yellow card for finally getting annoyed and giving the Marco guy who was tailing me a few good elbows to the windpipe.

What can I say? We forwards can be touchy when it comes to personal space.

When the whistle blew to signal the end of the game, Anne whooped and crowed out her glee like celebrating a victory was going out of style. Frankly, it was embarrassing.

Anne gave us an after-game pep talk, which, quite honestly, nobody listened to. I barely heard her gushing praise about our 5-1 win over the whoosh of Gazzy's waterbottle contents splashing over my head. We were sweaty and tired, and too pleased with ourselves for whooping Daleview's butts to pay attention. After Anne released us, we trooped directly to the locker rooms for quick showers and a change of clothing.

Directly after our trip to the lockers, Max, Ella, Nudge, Gazzy, and I headed back over to the school entrance. Nudge had invited us all to come swimming at her house for an after-game hang out, and Terra was going to drop by also. It would be even better now, too, since we had a beautiful victory crowning our heads.

Before we had gone ten steps towards the gates, though, someone behind us drawled, "Hold it, Lynxes. I want to talk to you."

We all whirled around, only to see Jose, Marco the Soccer Stalker, and a couple of other Mustangs whose names I didn't know. Jose's eyes were locked on Max, who was standing at my side with Ella on her left. She was, frankly put, looking pretty hot in a pair of green Adidas running shorts and a white tournament t-shirt, with her hair was loose and wet around her shoulders. I could still clearly see the marks on her legs imprinted by her shinguards.

Jose seemed to be enjoying the view of Max's long, toned legs and simultaneously scoffing at her.

Needless to say, I did not appreciate his blunt staring at my best friend.

"What do you want, Mustang?" Max demanded mockingly, emphasizing the 'Mustang' like it was a disgusting thing to say. "'Cause I've got better things to do than talk to you."

Jose's face twisted in anger. "So you think you can play soccer, bitch? Do you think you're hot? Because you aren't fooling anyone," Jose snarled.

Max laughed, stepping forward and giving Jose a highly exaggerated once over. "Honey," she started, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "if the way you were just staring at me was any indication, I am pretty damn hot."

I had the sudden urge to roll my eyes. Max had a gift for saying just the right thing to tick people off.

Jose looked even more pissed than he had on the field now. "You just want to think whatever you like, girlie," he spat. "I know better. I know how soccer should be played."

"Frankly, I don't think you're a good judge of how soccer should be played, since we just beat your team five to one," Max replied sweetly.

Before anyone could move, Jose lunged forward and punched Max right on her black eye.

Max recoiled, gasping in pain and clutching her hands over her bad eye. "Frick!" she breathed, doubling over and letting her hair fall forward to shield her face. I wasn't sure, but I thought I caught the glisten of a tear on her cheek.

Jose had crossed the line.

Stalking forward, I grabbed Jose by the neck of his jersey and slammed him against the chain link fence. His eyes widened as he stared at me, fingers clawing at my fists. "Never touch Max again," I told him quietly, my voice strangely devoid of emotion. I could feel the anger in my chest, boiling over at the replayed scene of Jose's fist meeting Max's already bruised eye. "If you do, I'll find you, and I'm going to be a lot less kind then." I let go of Jose's jersey and punched him across the jaw. His head snapped backward and he staggered against the fence. I could hear Nudge and Ella gasp in surprise behind me.

Without another glance at him, I turned away and walked towards Max. She had straightened up again, but her hands were still cupped tightly over her eye. "Max," I whispered, putting my hands on top of hers. "Let me see."

Slowly, Max's fingers relaxed, and she let them fall away from her eye. It was swollen shut, pink and red with a tinge of light purple mixed in.

The anger rose up in my throat again, choking any words I might have said. Max looked at me defiantly with her good eye. "I'm fine Fang. Let's go," she said stubbornly, her voice surprisingly strong considering she'd just been punched in her already bruised eye.

Then again, she was Maximum Ride.

Without another glance at the now silent Mustangs, I started off down the sidewalk towards Nudge's house. I could hear the others following behind me, and we didn't speak or look back as Cromwell and the Mustangs disappeared from sight.

I kept wondering at the feelings that were choking me, halting any words I might have said. There was anger, lots of it, but something deeper too. I just couldn't believe Jose had actually punched Max's black eye. It was just a low action on his part, and I didn't regret punching him at all.

But why had I reacted so strongly? Was it only because Max was my best friend?

No. It wasn't.

The realization almost stopped me in my tracks, but somehow, I kept walking. Apparently, I even kept up a convincing outer façade, because no one seemed to notice I had just experienced an epiphany. The only logical explanation for my actions just now, for the drawings earlier, for everything I had been feeling, was that…

I loved Max.

Crap.

"ZOMG I just thought of a nickname for your guys!" Nudge squealed, oblivious of my internal rampaging. "You guys should be Rated R! 'Cause you know, all of your names start with R, and you all got yellow cards today, and you all scored!"

"Wow, Nudge, that's actually kind of decent," Max commented, looking impressed.

"I know! Rated R! I'm so smart! I'm gonna call you guys that now!"

Double crap.

**Hey! So yeah, I have this really inconvenient thing called a Life that gets in the way of my writing. =( I'm sorry!******

**B-t-dubs, some people are apparently expecting 3-day updates. Guys, I have trouble with a chapter per week! I do my best, but as most of you should know if you took my advice and read The iPod Screen, I am but 13 years old! Le Gasp! Therefore, I have other things to worry about besides School Days. Like… actual school.******

**And like my jazz band audition on Tuesday... Agh!******

**Review please! Did you like the game? Did you like how I FINALLY started the romance? XD******

**~TMI~**


	23. Chicken Fight!

**DEDICATED TO: Lilac Rose6 and Iggy, who made me fall out of my chair laughing when I read their review. Thanks guys!**

MPOV

I watched Fang walking ahead of us out of my left eye, keeping a ginger hold on my throbbing right eye with both of my hands. I could still feel Fang's fingers gently touching my face, could still see his eyes inches away from mine.

I could still see him punching Jose in the jaw with enough force to send him crashing backwards into the fence.

He had done that for me.

Nudge and Ella were being unusually silent, probably because of the spectacle they had just witnessed. Gazzy was also quiet, his eyes trained straight ahead as we walked to Nudge's house. Fang was as wordless as usual, and I felt no need to speak, seeing that all I could really comprehend at the moment was the pain pulsing in my right eye.

Altogether, our group was a very subdued one.

Finally, we made it to Nudge's house, and Fang stepped back to let Nudge open the door. "Mom? I'm home!" Nudge called, dropping her backpack just inside the door and walking in. We followed her in, dumping our bags beside Nudge's.

A petite lady with hair that exactly matched Nudge's popped out of a doorway to the right. "Nudge! I see you've brought your friends over!" the lady exclaimed, smiling. She bustled over, examining us each in turn. "Fang and Gazzy, I know of course, and Ella, we took you to the mall last Sunday, correct?" Ella nodded and smiled brightly, as if remembering the shopping trip. Nudge's mom turned to me, her eyebrows raising almost imperceptibly when she caught sight of my black eye. "And you are?" she asked, almost primly.

I smiled hesitantly at her, a bit dismayed by her sudden change of attitude. I wanted to make a good impression on Nudge's mom, and my stupid black eye was ruining it. "I'm Max Ride, Mrs. Yolinta, pleased to meet you," I told her, making doubly sure I was polite after her frostier mood swing.

Instantly, though, she was all smiles again. "Oh, is this the Max I've been hearing so much about?" Nudge's mom asked, almost squealing in a way that was very akin to her daughter. Her brown eyes flickered almost unnoticeably towards Fang for a moment, before shooting back to me.i didn't miss the look, although I didn't really understand it. "Nudge has told me all about how nice you are, how cool, how good at soccer… I'm very excited to finally meet you! You can call me Tanya, dear, Mrs. Yolinta is too formal!"

I smiled, now fully convinced that this was where Nudge has received her ranting skills from. "Okay," I replied happily.

"But, Max dear, what happened to your eye?" Tanya asked, wringing her hands. "That looks painful!"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Fang tensing up at the mention of my black eye. "No worries, Tanya," I tried to assure her. "I got hit with a locker door at school today."

"Ouch!" Tanya winced sympathetically. "Would you like some ice for that?"

"I think I'm oka-"

"Ice would be great," Fang interrupted me, his voice calm and stoic. "Thanks, Tanya."

Tanya looked slightly bemused, but nonetheless nodded and went off towards the kitchen to get an ice pack.

"Ella, come up to my room and see the swimsuit I bought!" Nudge squealed suddenly, tugging Ella up the staircase and disappearing around a corner. "Max, grab your bag and come change in my room! Gazzy can change in the downstairs bathroom! Fang, use the upstairs one!" Nudge added in a yell. Gazzy nodded, grabbing his backpack and hurrying away. The bathroom door shut behind him with a soft click.

I turned to glare at Fang, who was standing calmly in the middle of the entrance hall with his hands in his pockets. "What was that for?" I demanded, putting my hands on my hips. "I don't need any ice."

Fang stared calmly back at me, his expression unreadable. "Ice will take the swelling down," he replied, his black eyes boring into me.

"What if I don't want the swelling to go down?" I demanded childishly. I was being silly, I knew that, but I really didn't like other people making decisions for me.

Suddenly, Fang was standing right in front of me, his hands cradling my face again. My eyes were level with his mouth, so I could watch every word he spoke being formed on his lips. "I don't want you to be in any more pain, Max," Fang murmured, his breath warm against my skin. I struggled to focus on what he was saying, instead of on our very close proximity. Was this how all the other girls at school always felt around Fang?

"Fine," I muttered, swatting his hands away from my face to stop myself from blushing again. I absolutely hated blushing, and Fang seemed to have immense talent for making me do so. It was so annoying! At my actions, Fang smirked at me and dropped his hands back into his pockets.

Just when he wasn't expecting it, I tackled him in a hug, carefully lodging the left side of my face in the crook of his neck, so that my black eye wasn't being touched. "Thank you, for dealing with Jose, and earlier with those other guys who were staring at me, and for everything you've done, Fang. I really appreciate it," I told him in one rapid string of words. I just had to get that out of my system.

Fang somehow understood my embarrassing babbles, and gently wrapped his arms around me. "No problem, Max," he replied soothingly. "I'm here for you."

"Because we're besties?" I asked, pulling away and smiling at him.

Fang smiled slightly back, but his eyes were subtly more guarded. "Not only because of that," he hedged.

"What kind of cryptic crap is that?" I demanded, confused by his vagueness.

Fang laughed, a real laugh that made me forget some of my annoyance. "It's my kind of cryptic crap," he informed me, ruffling my hair and grabbing his backpack. Fang pulled his bag on over one shoulder, then tossed me mine. I caught it mainly out of instinct, staring at him questioningly. "Swimming?" he reminded me, smirking in the most infuriating way. "Swim suits?"

"I get it, I get it," I grumbled, following Fang up the cream carpeted stairs. "But would it kill you to speak in full sentences?"

Fang stopped at the third door along the hallway, which was bedecked with posters, feathers and glitter of every color in the rainbow. "That's Nudge's room," he announced.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I muttered, shouldering him out of the way. Fang just smiled, heading further down the hall and disappearing through another door, presumably the bathroom. Taking a deep breath, I opened Nudge's door and stepped inside.

As I had predicted by Nudge's door and the very experience of knowing her, Nudge's room was an explosion of pink, purple, neon green, and silver, with glitter pretty much everywhere, and multicolored fluffy pillows battling for space with an army of stuffed animals on a hot pink, zebra-striped counterpane. Countless posters of shirtless movie stars boasting eight packs adorned the walls, sharing space with JB and Taylor Swift.

"Max! Max! Max!" Nudge squealed. She ran over to me from her huge, mirror-doored closet, where she had been conferring with Ells on something. "Maaaax!" Nudge repeated excitedly, bouncing up and down.

"Nuuuuudge!" I teased, dropping my backpack on the green carpet. "What is it?"

"Can I see your swimsuit? Thanks!" Nudge sang, diving for my backpack.

I rolled my eyes, walking over to her bed and plopping down next to a powder blue teddy bear and a bright purple snake. Kneeling beside the closet, Ella was meticulously going through a teetering stack of swimsuits, which I assumed all belonged to Nudge. Nudge herself was digging through my backpack, attempting to find my swimsuit in all the clutter.

"ZOMG Max, how do you keep your binders and backpack so disorganized, and you're still getting A's and B's? That's just unfair I keep such great order of my stuff and I still have a C+ in history. Dad said it's okay though, because I got A pluses all year in Tech so it evens out! Don't you just love logic? ZOMG Max is this your swimsuit?"

Nudge was holding up my swimsuit with so much obvious repulsion that it was as if it carried the plague in its innocent blue folds. "What's wrong with it?" I demanded, feeling slightly hurt by her blatant disgust with my swim suit. It wasn't that awful!

Nudge just stared at me. "It's a one piece," she explained, as if that made things clear.

She said 'one piece' the way most people say 'dog poop' or 'Lissa Rift'.

"Yes, I know that it's a one piece," I replied patiently. "Your point is?"

Nudge shook her head slowly at me, staring at me like I was a particularly revolting species of slug. "Max, Max, Max. What am I going to do with you?"

"Let me wear my swimsuit and go swimming?" I suggested hopefully.

Nudge smiled suddenly, the evil type of smile that makes me want to hide under a rock for a few centuries. "No, I think you're going to wear one of my swimsuits. I'll see if I have one that will fit you. You're like, five inches taller than me, but we're about the same body type and you're really slender, so you could probably wear one of mine!" Nudge ran back over to the closet and started digging through the stack Ella had been inspecting. I could've sworn I heard her mutter, "One piece, ughhh," under her breath.

That's Nudgekins for you.

I sat cross-legged on the bed as I waited for my doom, tapping my hands absentmindedly on my knees. I was thinking about our amazing game earlier, and how great we had played together as a team. Fang's goals were amazing, as were Gazzy's, and my goal was pretty beautiful too, if I do say so myself. The Mustang defense just couldn't handle us.

I frowned as I thought of Jose. That jerk was psycho, to be so convinced that girls shouldn't be playing school soccer. Hello, twenty-first century here! Equal rights are in action!

"Maaaax try on this one!" Nudge commanded, throwing a dark green bundle at me and snapping me out of my thoughts. I held up one hand to shield my black eye, catching the swim suit at the same time.

I warily unfolded the bundle, regarding it with the utmost of extreme caution. It was a two piece, of course, as Nudge had just demonstrated her passionate hatred for one pieces. The swimsuit was dark green with lighter green and yellow streaks and designs scattered all over. A yellow string tied around the neck, and another string secured it around the back.

The thing I actually liked about it was that it was kind of like a bikini, but it had a sort of short drapey thing hanging down the front half to cover my stomach, still leaving my back bare. It was a compromise, and I knew Nudge had picked it partially for that reason. She knew me well enough to realize I wouldn't allow her to dress me in a bikini, and especially not in front of our guy friends.

"Try it on," Nudge urged me. "I'm locking the door, and Ella and I won't look."

Ella and Nudge faced the closet and chatted about the swimsuits they were going to wear while I quickly stripped and tried on the swimsuit. It fit perfectly, which was slightly surprising, but nonetheless welcome. I pulled on my black board shorts over the bottoms, like I always did. The shorts were very short, barely shorts at all. However, I just didn't like wearing swimsuit bottoms by themselves. The board shorts just made me feel more comfortable, for some reason, even though I would never wear shorts this tiny for any event other than swimming. I would leave that for Lissa to do.

My mind works in strange ways.

"The suit fits," I announced, toying with the drapey sheet on the top part.

Instantly, Ella and Nudge whirled around to inspect and critique. "ZOMG that swimsuit looks like it was made for you!" Nudge squealed, jumping up and down. "You have to wear it! Scratch that, you should keep it! Yeah, totally, 'cause it doesn't even fit me right anyway! ZOMG Fang isn't gonna be-"

Ella abruptly elbowed Nudge, causing her to fall silent. Both of them looked suspiciously guilty.

"What? Fang isn't gonna what?" I demanded, crossing my arms.

"Fang isn't gonna be happy that we're taking so long! He's probably really hungry by now, and Gazzy too! They always are after soccer games, you know. We should get changed quickly and go eat something" Ella explained quickly, with the air of someone making something up on the spot.

"Don't lie! Tell me what you were gonna say!" I ordered. "Or, I won't wear this swimsuit! I'll wear my one piece!"

Nudge's eyes widened. She looked literally torn by the idea I would wear the one piece rather than her swimsuit.

It was kind of sad, but mostly amusing.

"Fine," Nudge sighed, looking defeated. "I was just gonna say Fang isn't gonna be able to take his eyes off you when he sees you wearing that."

I bolted upright, feeling instantly alert. "What? Why would you- why would he- that doesn't even- oh crap, I have to take this off!" I sputtered, fumbling with the ties to the swimsuit top. My mind was a mess of urgency and confusion, and I could barely think straight all of a sudden.

"Max! Stop that! Calm down!" Ella ordered, running over and slapping my hands away from the swimsuit ties. "Why are you so flustered by Nudge's teasing? She's just kidding!" Ella studied me for a moment, before a slow grin split her face. "Unless you actually likey Fang?" she asked impishly.

I stared at the carpet as if it would give me answers. "No, I don't," I said quietly. "I'm sorry, I just overreacted. Can you guys get dressed already?"

Ella and Nudge looked at me like they wanted to say something else, but thankfully held their tongues and changed clothes, Nudge into a white bikini, and Ella into a silver and blue one. They each wrapped a towel around themselves while I waited impatiently, cracking my knuckles avd trying to ignore my throbbing right eye.

When they were finally ready, we set off through the hallway and ran down the stairs, following the smell of food and the sound of talking to Nudge's kitchen. Inside the brightly colored, cheerful room, Tanya was talking to Gazzy and Fang about the soccer game, while the boys scarfed down ridiculous amounts of pizza at the wooden table.

"Careful, you'll sink if you eat too much," Ella warned them, plopping into the chair beside Gazzy and grabbing a slice of pizza out of one of the boxes. Gazzy just grinned at her and kept eating.

I reached over Fang's shoulder and swiped a couple pieces of pepperoni from the box to munch on. Nudge headed straight for the veggie pizza, which had been left untouched just for her. She was the only one who could stomach the stuff out of all of our friends. "So are we going swimming after we eat?" I asked through a mouthful of pizza. Everyone nodded, their own mouths too full to voice their answers.

"Max, here's your ice," Tanya said, handing me a blue cold pack. "I hope your eye gets better soon."

"Thank you, Tanya," I replied, gingerly pressing the ice pack to my black eye. It tingled and pulsed in the sudden cold, aching slightly. I knew the ice would make it better, but I still didn't like it. I never did like the cold, even if it was just an ice pack.

"That swimsuit looks very pretty on you, Max! It's really your color," Tanya complimented me with a smile. "Is it new?"

Everyone turned to look at me at Tanya's comment, and I could feel every one of their gazes on me, especially Fang's. Why did Nudge HAVE to tease me so much about him? Her remarks about Fang were wrecking my peace of mind.

It was a huge effort to rein in that horrible blushing effect with everybody scrutinizing me in the stupid swim suit, but I managed it. "Thank you," I repeated, smiling at Tanya again. "Actually, it's your daughter's suit. She declared mine unwearable, and forced this on me."

Tanya laughed at my description of Nudge's actions. "Sounds like my daughter," she replied, smiling at Nudge. "She made a good choice on that suit though, didn't she?"

Before anybody could answer, the sound of the front door flying open was heard, followed by a loud, "I am here! Your lives just got better!"

"Terra's here," Gazzy said calmly, taking a sip of his water.

Tanya seemed unperturbed by her house being invaded by a certain Terra Cliffe, so I assumed that this scenario occurred often. As it was, Terra bounced happily into the kitchen like she owned the place, wearing jean shorts and a white jacket over a zebra-striped bikini. "Hi Tanya! Hi guys!" Terra chirped, then stopped short when she caught sight of me. "Max! Did you re-bust your eye? How? When? Nice swimsuit, by the way."

I rolled my eyes (well, technically singular eye, since my right one was being frozen behind an ice pack) at Terra. "I'm fine, don't worry," I assured her. "Pizza?"

Terra waved her hands at it. "I already ate! I heard you guys won your game, congrats on that! So do you want to go swimming now?"

Terra pestered us continually about swimming until we all finally left our pizza and trooped out into Nudge's backyard. It was a big area, mostly taken up by the oval swimming pool and the hot tub further out by the fence. As soon as we were outside, Terra kicked away her flip flops, tore off her jacket and shorts, and leaped into the pool.

"Someone was eager to get in," Fang murmured, sounding slightly amused. He pulled off his shirt, leaving him only in his black (of course they were black, do I really need to tell you?) swim trunks.

I stared at Fang for a moment, my eyes locked on his abdomen.

"Checking Fang out, are you Max? He is rather ripped though, isn't he? Fang the stud, ooh!" Ella teased, suddenly appearing next to me to whisper in my ear.

I jumped, instantly tearing my eyes away from Fang. "No!" I started blushing, to my dismay, and attempted to stomp on the horrible reaction. "I was looking at his stomach! See, there's a weird scratch or something on it!" I pointed subtly towards Fang's stomach as he waded into Nudge's pool.

Ella just smirked at me. "Whatever you say, sister dearest! I know better than that!" she sang, skipping away and jumping into the pool. I sighed, walking over to one of the white lawn chairs and sitting down.

"Come into the water, Max," Gazzy urged me, pulling himself out and sitting at the edge. "It's not cold or anything- the pool is heated!"

"I'm gonna ice my eye for a few more minutes," I explained, gesturing to my ice pack. Gazzy nodded in understanding before diving back into the pool.

I leaned back, closing my good eye and relaxing into soft white fabric of the chair. My eye was throbbing still, but the pain was muted by the icing. Fang had been right about icing it, of course. He was more logical than me, but I wouldn't ever admit that to him. No sirree.

Just as I was getting comfortable, or as comfortable as I can get in a swim suit, something disturbed my tranquility. Someone ripped my ice pack off my eye and gathered me up in their arms, whisking me recklessly off of the chair. I shrieked before I could stop myself, reaching to clobber my attacker. Before I could land a hit, however, the assassin threw me out into open air. I flew for a moment, hanging midair, before crashing butt-first into the pool.

Water swirled around me in a flurry of tiny tickling bubbles, tugging at my hair and slightly stinging my black eye. I let myself sink to the bottom, my toes meeting concrete, before pushing off and rocketing towards the surface.

As my head broke the water, I gasped for air, the first sounds I heard being laughter. I shook my sopping hair out of my face and started treading water as I searched for my attacker.

The source was Gazzy, who stood laughing his ass off at me. Apparently he had been the one who had thrown me in. "GAZZY!" I screamed, paddling furiously for the edge of the pool.

Gazzy stopped laughing, looking instantly alarmed by my threatening tone of voice. He started to run, but before he could get very far, I had latched firmly onto his ankle. Gazzy yelped as I tugged viciously on his leg, pulling him backwards. He teetered on one leg for a moment before Terra ran over and pushed him firmly on the chest, causing him to flip over my head and into the water, arms and legs flailing. Instantly, I stopped feeling murderous, and started laughing. "Thanks Terra!" I called to her, grinning at my helper.

Terra grinned back at me, waving her hands and bowing mockingly to me. "Αny time, your majesty," she replied. With that note, Terra dove back into the water with a huge splash.

"That was entertaining."

I whirled around in the water, clinging to the edge and biting my lip in an effort not to voice my surprise. Fang was latched onto the edge behind me, smirking relentlessly at my reaction to him talking suddenly. That boy was even quieter in the water than he was on land. "Fang!" I scolded "You… you're a jerk," I finished weakly, glaring at him out of my good eye.

Fang laughed. "That's it? I'm just a jerk?"

I shoved him in reply, causing him to simply smile at me. "You're a horrible bestie," I informed him. "Good besties don't let their besties get thrown into swimming pools by mean old soccer stars."

Fang shrugged. "I guess I didn't read the Bestie Handbook thoroughly enough."

"That's right," I replied imperiously.

"Okay."

"Yeah, I know it's okay."

"I know."

"Are you trying to mess with me?"

"No, I'm simply watching as you mess with yourself."

"Shut up, you awful excuse for a bestie."

"Oh, that hurts, Ride."

"It should, Rianild."

"One, two, three, four! I declare a chicken fight!" Terra crowed from the other side of the pool, interrupting our vey mature argument.

"That doesn't rhyme, Terry dearest," I called to her helpfully.

Terra shrugged. "Do I care? It gets the point across! Three way chicken fight! Now!"

Instantly, Ella and I swam for each other. We were the ultimate chicken fight team, our tactics perfected by so many years of sisterly bonding in the pool. Every one of our cousins and friends from each of the many places we had lives in knew not to dare to chicken fight with us. We were that good.

I waded over to a shallower place where I could stand, then hunched down as Ella jumped onto my shoulders. She hooked her legs around my torso, and I reached up to steady her back.

Nudge and Fang had paired up, along with Gazzy and Terra, who were bickering over who got to be on top.

"I wanna be on top! I'm a girl!" Terra wailed.

"How is that a good argument?" Gazzy retorted. "I should go on top 'cause I'm amazing!"

"That isn't a good argument either, hypocrite!

"Fatty!"

"Jerk!"

"Lame-o!"

"Stop flirting with each other already!" Nudge ordered from her perch on Fang's shoulders. "Terra will be on top because she's shorter and lighter than you, dearest Gazzyfuls. You'll crush her if you're on top!"

Gazzy and Terra ignored Nudge's comment about flirting, instead carrying on normally. Gazzy pinched Terra's leg as she climbed onto his shoulders, making her shriek and slap his head in retaliation.

"Go," Ella whispered, digging her left heel softly into my ribs. I surged forward suddenly, rushing through the water and towards Gazzy and Terra. With expert precision, my sister hooked her foot around one of Terra's knees and shoved it off Gazzy's shoulder while I held her steady. Simultaneously, Ella leaned forward and roughly pushed Terra's shoulders backward, causing her to fall flailing into the water. "GO US!" Ella yelled victoriously, pumping her fist up as Terra surfaced again and started pouting. I grinned and high fived Ella in celebration. That was too easy.

Suddenly, my senses prickled, and I pivoted in the water just in time to see Nudge and Fang trying to sneak-attack us while we were gloating over Gazzy and Terra's defeat. Ella steadied herself on my shoulders, hooking herself firmly onto me with her legs. "FOR NARNIA!" Ella shrieked, lunging forward and pushing at Nudge.

"FOR NARNIA AND ASLAN!" I added, pumping one fist in the air.

Nudge dodged Ella's thrust, grabbing my sister's arm and pulling her roughly forward. Nudge was stronger than she looked, and Ells was caught firmly in her grip. Nudge grinned, it looked like Ella was going to fall forward off my shoulders.

But I wasn't about to lose that easily.

As Ella teetered precariously forward on my shoulders, struggling to maintain her balance, I rushed forward in the water. She regained her balance as soon as I was directly under her again, yanking her arm from Nudge's grip. Ella grabbed Nudge's arm instead, pulling her forward in an exact copy of the move Nudge had tried to use just a second ago. Nudge shrieked and flew forward, her legs almost completely off Fang's shoulders. We were so close to victory!

Just as Nudge was falling forward, though, Fang surged towards us in a kamikaze act, slamming straight into me and taking Ella and I down with them.

Ella flipped off my shoulders and took the brunt of the impact, slapping the water on her back, but she didn't have a very solid boy weighing her down like I did, and seemed to be okay. Nudge had catapulted over my head and landed next to Ella in the water.

Just as I submerged fully underwater, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me back up to the air. I choked out some of the water I had inhaled, leaning forward and resting my chin on Fang's shoulder. My body was buzzing strangely from the full on contact with him, but I didn't have time to ponder the phenomena, considering that I was busy coughing up my lungs.

"Are you okay, Max?" Fang asked, holding me forward so he could look at me.

I nodded, and he dropped his hands from my torso, letting me stand up by myself. "Good fight," I rasped, grinning at Fang. "Usually no one can beat Ella and me."

"I think it was a tie," Fang replied, flashing me a smile. "Are you guys okay?" he asked, looking over my shoulder.

I turned around just in time to see Nudge and Ella pop up from the water, sputtering wildly and coughing up chlorine. "Whew!" Ella wheezed, rubbing her throat. "Nudge, you elbowed me in the neck!"

"Sorry Ells," Nudge gasped, pushing her soaked curls out of her eyes. "But in my defense, you were the one who pulled me off of Fang's shoulders."

"Oh, come on! That's the whole point of the game! And Fang cheated, anyway," Ella retorted.

Fang blinked innocently. "Me? Cheat? Never," he declared, his face completely blank. Ella crossed her arms, rolling her eyes at him.

"Whatever you say, Fang," Ella sighed doubtfully.

Gazzy popped up beside Nudge, his normally spiky blonde hair slicked to his forehead by the water. "Personally, I think Fang did that purely to get to Max in her swim suit," Gazzy remarked casually, his eyes brimming with mischief.

"Gazzy!" I yelled, splashing water into his eyes. He sputtered and coughed at the onslaught, but nevertheless started cackling wildly, as he was wont to do.

"Can we fight again?" Terra begged, her eyes wide and imploring. "Gazzy is a bad partner! I want Ella this time!" Ella promptly swam over and slung her arm around Terra's shoulders.

"Gee, thanks," Gazzy muttered, tugging a wet lock of Terra's hair in retaliation. She laughed, swatting his hand away playfully. "Well, if you get Ella, then I call Max!" Gazzy decided.

"No way, Gazzy! I want Max!" Nudge argued, splashing him again.

"She's my bestie," Fang informed us calmly, paddling up and clapping his hand over my shoulder. "I get dibs."

"I feel special," I joked, grinning up at Fang. "So many people want me!"

"I think Fang wants you all the time," Terra coughed, her voice low so only I could hear her.

I pretended not to notice.

"Well Gazzy, if Fang has dibs on Max, then that leaves you and me," Nudge drawled, paddling over to Gazzy. "Give me a lift onto your shoulders. There's no way I'm carrying you."

We kept playing chicken-fight for awhile, switching partners every round. I was with Terra once, Gazzy and Nudge twice each, and with Ella and Fang three more times. However, after Gazzy almost cracked his head open falling off of my shoulders, we decided to stop playing. Instead, we all got out and trooped over to the hot tub in the far corner of Nudge's spacious backyard, where we sat and talked for another hour or so. It was around seven o' clock now, and the sun was setting, leaving us in a dim twilight. Nudge pressed a button on the edge of the hot tub, and suddenly multi-colored lights flickered on under the water.

"Ooh, pretty!" Terra sighed. I had to agree with her. The lights danced on the water, shifting around and lighting up our faces.

"Nudge, your house is amazing," I informed her quietly, watching the light shimmer on the water. "Thank you so much for having us over."

"No prob," Nudge replied happily, sinking into the water up to her chin. "I'm just glad you could all come. This was so much fun."

Everyone murmured in agreement, drowsily watching the bubbles steam and pop on the water, the colored lights highlighting each one. It was almost magical.

"Terra! Your mom is here!" Tanya called from the back door. Grumbling, Terra rose out of the water, adjusted her bikini, and stepped out. We all stood and followed her out of the hot tub, and Nudge switched off the bubbles and lights.

The spell was broken.

I shivered slightly in the light breeze, wrapping my arms around myself. Someone set a towel over my shoulders, and I knew instinctively that it was Fang. "Thanks," I told him, tugging the cloth tightly around me.

"Sure," Fang replied. He walked over to one of the lawn chairs and dried himself off before pulling his shirt on. I squeezed most of the water out of my hair, rubbing my arms and legs dry too so I wouldn't drip in Nudge's house.

A blonde lady in tailored capris and a neat pink blouse stood talking to Tanya inside the house. She smiled at us as we all walked in, but I didn't miss the skeptical look she cast at my black eye.

I was just getting a bad rep from this stupid bruise. Feeling slightly annoyed, I brushed some of my wet hair over my right eye to cover it. If Tanya and this lady, who I assumed was Terra's mom, reacted this way to my black eye, I felt that I could wait to hear my own mother's views on it.

Wouldn't she be pleased?

"Terrs, we need to get going now. I left dinner in the oven, and your father and sister insist they aren't leaving the couch until they personally witness Barcelona beating Manchester United." Terra's mom sighed. "The house could burn down and they wouldn't care, not as long as Barcelona wins."

Terra rolled her eyes. "Jessie and my dad are even more obsessed with soccer than Gazzy," she whispered to me.

"Is that possible?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.

Terra looked solemn. "Unfortunately, it is. My sister and dad have proven it. We better go." Terra pulled on her flip flops and jacket, stuck her cell phone in the back pocket of her shorts, and followed her mom out the door.

"We should go soon too," I decided, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. "Mom said to be back by seven thirty. Come on Ells, let's get dressed."

Nudge and Ella followed me up the stairs to Nudge's room, leaving Gazzy and Fang with Tanya in the kitchen. "So Max, are you ready to admit your undying love for Fang yet?" Nudge asked casually as she closed her door behind us.

"No," I replied, just as casually. I had been expecting that question. "Pass me my backpack, will you?"

Nudge handed me my backpack, and I started changing back into my normal clothes.

"So when you realize that you love him, you'll tell us, right?" Ella asked sweetly.

I tried to ignore the giggles coming from behind me. "Of course, Ells," I told her, my voice dripping with sarcasm just as much as my hair was dripping with water.

"Promise?" Nudge sang, prompting Ella to giggle again.

"Sure, whatever will make you leave me alone," I sang back, pulling on my jacket. "Ells, are you done dressing yet?"

"Yeah," Ella confirmed. I turned around to see her slipping on her flip flops. "Let's go."

Nudge followed us down the stairs again, wrapping us in tight hugs at the door. "Thanks for inviting us," I repeated, smiling as she squeezed my lungs out.

"You're welcome already!" Nudge retorted teasingly, finally releasing me from her bone-crushing hug. "Do me a favor and stop saying thanks, Max. It's getting on my nerves!"

I rolled my eyes at her, opening the door and getting ready to step outside. "Wait," a voice called behind me. "I'm leaving too. Thanks Nudge."

"No problem, Fang," Nudge sang, shooing us out the door. "Get Ella and Max home safely!"

"Au contraire, I'll get Ella and Fang home safely, Nudge," I replied airily. "All will cower in fear before Maximum Ride."

Nudge laughed, waving good bye again before shutting the door behind us. Ella set off briskly down the sidewalk, Fang and I following behind her. "That was fun," I remarked to no one in particular. "Do you guys do that often?"

"All the time," Fang replied, shifting his backpack on his shoulders. "Tanya loves us."

"Nudge told me she's planning a huge pool party soon," Ella chimed in, turning her head to look at us. "She's inviting the entire soccer team, plus a few extras, like Iggy, Terra, and JJ."

"Cool."

We walked in companionable silence for a few more minutes, the only sound a faint cricket concert in the background. It was only a ten minute walk from Nudge's house to ours, and it was exactly seven thirty when we arrived in our yard. Ella went immediately inside, saying something about a lot of extra chemistry homework. I was about to follow her when Fang laid a hand on my arm. I turned to look at him quizzically. "Yeah?" I prompted, seeing as Fang didn't look like he was about to speak.

"Max, I…" Fang trailed off, as if the words he was about to say had suddenly flown off.

"Yeah?" I repeated, pushing my hair out of my eyes.

Fang immediately locked onto my black eye again. He raised one hand to my face, his fingers gently touching my bruise with all the weight of a feather. "Is your eye okay?" he asked quietly, his finger tracing around the edge of the bruise.

"I'll be fine. It's no problem," I assured him, my voice coming out more softly than usual. Fang was issuing a calming effect on me. I felt ready to fall asleep right there in my front yard.

"Why did Max II hit you anyway?" Fang asked, drawing his hand back.

I took in a deep breath, looking down at my feet. "He was being rude and very insulting, so I yelled at him, and he hit me," I explained quietly, linking my hands together behind my back.

"Why does he keep bothering you?" Fang demanded. "Why doesn't Max II just get a life instead of persisting in pestering you?"

"He wasn't insulting me," I admitted, twisting the hem of my shirt between my fingers.

"Who was he insulting then?"

I looked back up at Fang. "You," I whispered, feeling suddenly small. "I didn't like that."

"Max," Fang murmured, stepping closer. "You got hurt for no reason."

"What do you mean?" I demanded, staring defiantly at him. "I was defending you!"

Fang shook his head. "I don't care what Max II says about me, but it's my fault that you've got a black eye."

I tossed my hair back, setting my hands stubbornly on my hips. "If Max hadn't hit me, Jose still did," I retorted. "That wasn't your fault."

Fang shrugged. "Maybe it was."

"No," I replied bluntly, so forcefully that I surprised myself with my own vehemence.

Fang looked surprised too, but he managed a slight smile. "Whatever you say, Max. I hope you're feeling better tomorrow." Fang stepped forward and pulled me into him. My nose bumped gently into his chest, and the top of my head fitted snugly under his chin. I froze at first, surprised by his actions. Fang had never initiated a hug before, and when I hugged him, he tended to be a little unresponsive, so this was unexpected. After a second though, I wrapped my arms around him, reveling in the strange yet comfortable sense of security that Fang provided for me.

Then, suddenly, Fang shifted his head to look down at me. I tilted my head up and stared right back at him, examining again his extraordinary black eyes. Fang leaned in a little closer, his eyes locked with mine. I subconsciously stood up taller, watching as his face came closer and closer to mine. Our noses touched, and Fang pulled back slightly, brushing his lips softly against the closed lids of my black eye. "Feel better, Max," Fang whispered, releasing me and stepping away. I stood there, feeling dazed, as Fang walked out of my yard and hopped the fence into his.

"Good night," I murmured, mostly to myself. I turned around and headed back into my house, shutting the door quietly behind me.

Now what the hell was that?

**This chapter kinda seems like filler, but it's important! =D******

**Gazzy: you enjoy messing with Max, don't you TMI?******

**Heck yeah I do! And it's really funny for me to reread this story, because I never swear worse than 'crap' usually with an occasional 'hell', but here I don't think Max or Fang are very conservative with language, so I swear a lot more. XD******

**Oh, and to those of you who asked, I play trumpet in school, I sing, and I've played piano for eight years. My jazz audition was for trumpet, and I got first chair! Yay!******

**This chapter was really easy to write, hence the quick update! Do you think we could get near 500 reviews with this chapter? If everyone who just alerts or favorites it spares a moment to review, I think we could get there!******

**So review please! =D******

**~TMI~****  
**


	24. Say What!

**Wow! I got a nice response for chapter 23, guys! Thank you all so much!**

**DEDICATED TO: All of my reviewers! Me, Salute Horses, Kali Be Gold, Sierra156, BookWorm2011, zammielicious98, umm, hermione321, AwesomeCoolPerson, jojoankristinaRbamfZ, GirlWithTheBrokenWings, dancerxforlifex3, The EpitomeofAwesomeness, Love My Writing or Else, FANGirlforFANG, whocares1313, ADarkWingedForever, Amazing Grace, The Seagull, AssassinationOfDylan, Birdwatched, maceygirl (dude, those reviews were intense. XD), Animalover, Obeudan, Dark Skitty Power, MaximumMelody, CoffeeHouseGirl274, InsanityDerivedBlindLove, WhatIsLove, flip800and1, faxtothemax51799, ixdookiie, DaughterofWolf, LilacRose6, bloodyXfangs, Another Winged Soul, LupoLunaMoon, livelaughloveanddance, Hey, and xXAthena-MinervaXx!**

**Especially to ADarkWingedForever, my lovely 500****th**** reviewer! And Amazing Grace, you have no idea how amazing it was (ironic, I know XD) to hear someone comment on the Man U vs Barca! I am indeed a Barca fan. WOOT! =D**

**You have no idea how ego-boosting it is to have all of those reviews to look at. I feel a bit teary-eyed.**

**Gazzy: TMI is such a girl.**

… **-_-'' No longer teary-eyed. XD Anyway, on with the chapter!**

Neither Max nor I spoke about our little interaction in her front yard at school the next day.

I wasn't sure about her, but that last exchange had been very monumental for me. In my sheer, nearing-on-giddiness, I had nearly kissed Max right then and there. Then her nose kinda smacked mine, and I was jolted back into logic. If I had kissed Max… I didn't want to even think about the consequences. Luckily, I managed to turn my  
almost-full-on-kiss into a very inconspicuous oh-dear-I-hope-your-eye-feels-better-maneuver.

I'm such an idiot.

Sighing, I stowed my history binder in my locker and shut the door, blending into place in the throng of students heading for the cafeteria. As I walked along, I tried to think of something other than Max. I focused on the guy walking in front of me. He was tall and blond, and walked slightly undecisively, like he wasn't sure where he was going quite yet.

Max has blondish hair.

I mentally facepalmed. Let's try again to not focus on Max. Steer my thoughts away from my bestie, who I was mysteriously attracted to, who was really a kick-ass girl in general…

Refocusing!

I set my eyes on the girl beside the blond guy. She was much shorter than him, but she looked fit and agile all the same. Her blue sweatshirt declared her to be a member of the Raine Valley United soccer club, specifically number seven on a team called the Downpour.

That was the club that Gazzy and I played for, and the team Max had been considering trying out for.

I shook my head for a moment, trying to banish all thoughts of Max trickling in. I had to stop obsessing over her. She would flip if she knew that I-

"Hi bestie!"

I almost socked Max in the face as I whirled around, startled by both her abrupt greeting and sudden appearance. "When did you get here?" I asked stupidly.

Max grinned, falling into step with me as we entered the cafeteria. "I teleported with my amazing super powers," she teased, flipping her hair dramatically.

I snorted, and Max smacked my shoulder in retaliation. "It's true!" she protested, trying to hide her smile and appear serious as we approached our usual table. "I am a magical being! Fear me!"

"Max is a fairy," I announced to our lunch table as I sat down. Gazzy, Ella and Iggy looked mystified, but Nudge was simply excited.

"ZOMG really? That would be so freaking cool, I wanna be a fairy! Then I'd have wings, and that would be so amazing! I've always wanted to fly, actually I've been thinking about going to aviation school and becoming a pilot! That would be so cool! But I also kinda want to be like a NASA programmer or something sweet like that, 'cause it would probably have a great salary, and I would get to work with lots of computers, and you don't have people asking for more peanuts all the time when you're a programmer. I don't like peanuts in general, but airline peanuts are great! They're so good, but of course peanuts have nothing on peanut butter, which is like, the essence of deliciousity. Did I ever tell you about that one time I got peanut butter stuck on my-"

"Thank you Nudge, that's enough," Gazzy interrupted, clamping a hand over Nudge's mouth. She poured, smacking his hand away and taking a moody bite of her apple.

"So what's happening?" Max asked through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Everyone's buzzing about our game yesterday. Oh, and your lovely black eye!" Ella informed her, looking strangely proud of the fact. "If anyone didn't know who Max Ride was before, they do now."

Max scowled, reaching a hand up to touch her bruise. "Great. So now I'm known as the freshman wuss who was punched in the eye twice?"

"Yep," Iggy confirmed gleefully. "It's so funny!"

"If you say another word, Iggy, you'll be known as the freshman wuss who was given a black eye by Max Ride because you were pissing her off too much," Max threatened, cracking her knuckles ominously.

Before Max could get a chance to beat up Iggy, an announcement crackled over the loudspeaker. "Will Jonathan Fields please come to the office, Jonathan Fields?"

Iggy stood up hurriedly, tossing his lunch away and swinging his legs over the bench. "Whoops, got to go," he murmured, waving a rushed good bye at us and starting to walk away.

"Wait, Igs!" Gazzy called after him. "What did you do this time?"

"Nothing, it's probably my dad dropping off my English essay," Iggy replied distractedly, hurrying away. I could distinctly hear him muttering, "He better have powdered donuts," before the cafeteria crowd swallowed Iggy from view.

"That was weird," I commented, wondering who was giving Iggy powdered donuts. Those things could be dangerous when in contact with Iggy, all for various figuratively explosive and all too literally explosive reasons.

"He was lucky this time," Max growled, looking slightly murderous as she glared after Iggy's retreating back. The effect of her expression combined with her black eye created a rather threatening picture. Yet, I couldn't help but focus on how pretty she somehow managed to look at the same time…

I had to get out of here, before I did something stupid about my secret Max-obsession, like rush up and kiss her or something equally as condemning.

"I'm done," I announced, finishing my sandwich and tossing the empty bag in the trash can nearby. I stood up, avoiding looking at Max as I did so.

"Are you okay, Fang?" Max asked, looking slightly concerned. "You seem a bit preoccupied."

Well it's your fault that I am preocuppied, Max dearest. "I'm fine," I said out loud. "See you guys later." And with that, I hurried out of the cafeteria.

This whole being-in-love-with-my-best-friend was hard work. I wondered how long I could keep this stoic façade up.

It was probably a good time for some deep, philosophical pondering on my crappy situation. What do you do when you're in love with your best friend, who was hinted before that she has a more-than-slightly-problematic phobia of relationships?

Yep. It was definitely philosophical thinking time for me.

**O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O**

Philosophical thinking does wonders for answering questions, you know.

Well, it does if you actually make an attempt to even think  
philosophically. I abandoned the effort halfway into the first thought in art class, which happened to be, "Why the hell do I love Max?"

I was very grateful that Max, who was sitting next to me, did not have the gift of telepathy.

After this demonstration of how horrible I was at philosophical thinking, I decided to ask Gazzy about my epiphany. Despite the fact that he was a little bit of a pyromaniac, a lot bit of ADHD, and one-hundred percent soccer fanatic, he made a good advice consultant about everything from nachos to girls to betting.

Go figure.

I made my way up to him in the locker room after soccer practice after school. Gazzy was joking around with Danny, tossing a soccer ball back and forth, volleying and heading it to keep the ball from touching the ground. "Heads up!" Gazzy yelled, vaulting over a bank of lockers to kick the ball back to Danny. Everyone else who was changing their clothes ignored the two overly energetic boys. This kind of behavior was to be expected from them after all kinds of training sessions, be they easy or life-threatening.

Danny laughed, heading the ball swiftly back in Gazzy's direction. The two of them were extremely good with their ball skills and control, and the blue soccer ball they were passing rarely touched the ground.

The next time Gazzy volleyed the ball back to Danny, I stepped in and plucked it right out of the air. "Hey!" Gazzy objected, pouting at me.

"Trying out for goalie, eh Fang?" Danny asked, grinning good-naturedly.

Nothing seemed to annoy that boy. He had a perpetually sunny disposition.

I shook my head in reply. "I need Gaz for a sec," I explained, twirling the ball in my hands.

Gazzy pouted again. "But I'm playing with Danny," he whined.

"Jeez, Gaz. I swear that you're eight years old sometimes," I replied, feeling slightly exasperated with him. I needed advice here! I felt pretty sure that my abrupt infatuation with my best friend outranked passing a soccer ball around on the list of important things to attend to.

"Nah, Angel acts more grown-up than him sometimes, and she's only six," Danny reminded me slyly. He winked, flipping another ball up from his heels in an impressive rainbow and starting to head it repeatedly. It reminded me vaguely of a performing seal.

"Hey!" Gazzy yelped, crossing his arms across his chest.

Danny just laughed. "Admit it, Gaz. You know it's true! That little sister of yours far outranks you in maturity!"

Gazzy muttered something indecipherable and most likely explicit under his breath. "Fine, Fang. I don't want to talk to Danny anymore anyway," Gazzy announced, grabbing his backpack and stalking dramatically out of the locker rooms. I tossed the ball back to a grinning Danny and followed the diva out.

Gazzy stopped just outside the door, and set his eyes on me. "So, Fangles, what do you want?" he asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.

"I need some help," I replied, glancing around the hallway. Max was nowhere in sight, but I could hear some rather loud shrieks and giggles emanating from the girls' locker room. "Can we not talk here?" I added, looking pointedly towards the locker room door.

Gazzy seemed to understand. "Sure. Your house?" he suggested, already walking towards the road. I half-smiled, following behind him as I tried to marshal my thoughts.

We walked in companionable silence, the only sound the familiar jingling of Gazzy's keychain-festooned backpack. That was another thing about Gazzy that I appreciated. He understood the meaning of silence.

When I opened the door to my house, I was greeted by the scent of cooking dinner pervading every corner of the house. Mom appeared in the hallway, holding a silver culinary gadget and wearing a blue apron. "Oh, Fang, you're home," Mom said brightly, smiling at me. "And hello Gazzy!"

"Hi Linda," Gazzy replied cheerfully, nodding at my mom. The two of them were practically best friends themselves.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, Gazzy? It'll be ready in about ten minutes," Mom offered.

Gazzy's smile grew. "I'd love to, Linda! Your cooking is always amazing."

"Oh thank you, Gazzy," Mom said, smiling at the praise.

"We'll be in my room," I announced, starting up the stairs. Gazzy followed dutifully behind me, and my mom disappeared back into the kitchen.

Gazzy dumped his backpack in the middle of my room, plopped down on my bed, and motioned for me to start talking. "What do you need, Fang?" he asked, his blue eyes looking slightly concerned.

I fell into my desk chair, staring up at the blank white ceiling. "I think… I like Max. As more than a friend," I said slowly, feeling my throat clench up in an attempt to stop the words from emerging. This was the kind of talking I despised the most, but I had brought it upon myself.

Gazzy didn't blink. "And?" he prompted patiently.

I snapped my head around to stare at him. "What do you mean 'and'?" I demanded, the constriction in my throat vanishing at my surprise. "I just told you, I think I like Max! Max!"

Gazzy was unruffled by my outburst. He propped his chin in his hands, looking thoughtfully at me. "Wait," Gazzy said slowly, his voice tinged with curiosity. "You just realized that you like Max?"

"Well, yeah," I muttered, feeling slightly peeved by Gazzy's response. "Obviously."

"Fang," Gazzy started slowly. He stopped, sighed, and began again. "Fang, Nudge and I have known that you liked Max since the day she and Ella came to town," Gazzy informed me bluntly.

I stared at him, unable to fully comprehend what he was saying. All I could manage to say was, "What?"

Gazzy winced at the strangled quality my voice had taken on. "Umm, yeah, we've known for awhile now," he confirmed. "We didn't know you yourself hadn't realized it though," Gazzy added. "We all thought you were just keeping it a secret that you liked her."

I just stared at him, struggling to think straight. "So you've known I liked Max for the past four weeks," I clarified blankly.

Gazzy nodded.

"And I didn't."

Gazzy nodded again.

"Well why didn't you tell me then?" I demanded, suddenly on my feet. "That would've been nice to know!"

Gazzy stood also, looking surprised at my outburst. "When you figure out that one of your best friends likes another of your best friends, you tend to assume that he already knows that he does," Gazzy replied calmly. "Frankly, I can't figure out how it took you four weeks to realize you like Max!"

"Shh!" I hissed, glancing towards my closed door. "Someone might hear you!"

"Like who?" Gazzy retorted. "I bet you that the only person who doesn't know you like Max is Max herself. She's kind of oblivious about these things."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Thanks, Gaz."

Gazzy sighed, falling back down on my bed again. "Look, Fang. You like Max, now you know. What are you going to do about it?"

There was a silent pause while I thought about it. What was I supposed to do about liking my best friend?

"I don't know!"

**MPOV**

"He so likes you," Nudge said randomly in the locker room as we were getting changed out of our sweaty, post-practice clothes.

"Pardon?" Liz asked behind me, sounding confused.

"No Liz, I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to Max," Nudge explained.

"Ah. Fang?" Liz asked knowingly, nodding her head in an attempt at adopting a wise aura.

"Yes. They would be so cute together, that's for sure!"

"I know, right?"

"I can hear you!" I said loudly, interrupting Liz and Nudge's  
scintillating conversation.

"Hush, Max," Nudge ordered. "I don't want to hear your whining. I know you're just gonna deny your obvious chemistry with dear Fangles anyway."

I slammed my head into my locker. "There is no chemistry between Fang and I! My science partner is JJ," I grumbled weakly.

"Failed joke, Max," Lauri remarked, pulling off her socks.

"Shut up, Lauri."

"I'd like to take a vote here!" Juliann announced suddenly, standing up on top of the bench. "Who here believes that Fang and Max should date? Please say aye!"

Instantly, a chorus of 'ayes' rang out throughout the room.

It appeared that the entire female population of the Cromwell Lynxes soccer team was rooting for Fang and I to go out. Well, this was mildly mortifying.

"Guys!" I protested shrilly, feeling that horrible blush rise up again. I had never blushed this much in Nevada! Stupid Californian air…

Suddenly, Anne poked her head out of the small connecting office, grinning mischievously. "Aye!" she called, a wicked glint in her eyes.

Everyone shrieked and giggled, but I just sat there and gaped at Anne. "How could you?" I cried, springing to my feet. "Anne, as my coach you should be supporting me unconditionally in my times of need!"

"I'm sorry, Max, but I couldn't pass that up," Anne replied, slightly apologetically. "Plus, it's totally true. Did you see the way Fang was looking at you during practice today? I almost went over to have a talk with him about not staring at fellow team mates during practice!"

"Anne!" I shrieked, now thoroughly mortified and scarred for life. Anne simply laughed, shrugged, and disappeared back into her office. Nudge and Ella practically screamed with laughter, slapping high fives. Meanwhile, Liz, Lauri, Rosanna, and Juliann were all rolling around on the floor like their ribs were going to burst from giggling so hard.

Such supportive team mates I have here.

"You guys all suck," I announced hotly, grabbing my backpack and stalking out of the room.

"We love you too, Maxikins!" Rosanna called after me.

"Hugs and kisses!" Juliann added.

I let the door slam shut behind me. Those jerks!

I stormed off towards the entrance to campus, feeling suitably ruffled by my team mates' teasing. It didn't matter that Fang was gorgeous- I could accept that in my bestie. It also didn't matter how sweet he could be, or how protective he got over my problems. It didn't matter that he was the most amazing guy I had ever met, bar none.

I couldn't commit to another relationship. Sam had ruined my trust, and I wasn't nearly ready to bare my heart again. I wouldn't be able to take another heartbreak, not after the horrible one I experienced with stupid Sam and the awful Brigid, with her ever present little cell phone and her always perfect appearance.

I shuddered at the memory of the heartbreaking duo. It was best not to dig up old wounds.

"Hello, Max."

I stopped in my tracks, narrowing my eyes at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice. "Max II," I replied levelly, turning slowly around to face him. "What a surprise to see you here. Do you really insist on stalking me?"

Max II smiled coldly. "Are you enjoying your black eye?" he asked blandly.

I clenched my fists tighter. "Why yes, I am actually," I replied sweetly. "Would you like me to give you one to match?"

Max II laughed, but it was an emotionless sound. "I'm quite alright, Max," he said, his eyes boring into me. "I appreciate the offer though."

"What do you want?" I demanded. "Why do you keep bothering me?"

Max II smiled, sticking his hands in his pockets. "That information is classified," he informed me, clearly relishing the statement.

"Ooh, does saying that make you feel important, Maxi?" I asked snidely. "You could always just say that you love me and can't bear to leave me alone."

Max's smile vanished, and his gray eyes were stony and cold. "I could give you another shiner to match your current one," he offered quietly, his voice cool and unfeeling.

I snorted. "Threatening a girl, are we? You just aim high in life, don't you Maxi?" I twirled my hair mockingly around one finger, giving him a wide, fake smile.

"I do aim high in life, Max. You'll see that soon enough," Max II promised, sounding oddly distant. With that, he abruptly walked off, then stopped only a few feet further away. Without turning around, he added, "And your boyfriend won't always be around to fight back for you."

"Whatever," I shot back. "I don't need to hear your cryptic  
threats, Max."

Max II didn't acknowledge me again, simply walked off and turned a corner around a building.

"Hey Max! Wait up!"

Sighing, I turned around, only to see none other than Danny Armstrong running up behind me. "Hey Danny, wassup?" I greeted him, instantly feeling more cheerful. Danny is one of those rare, delightful and very charismatic people that you never meet. He can make people feel better just by talking to them. This was probably a huge factor in why he was one of the most popular seniors at Cromwell.

"Nothing much, Max," Danny replied, grinning at me. Suddenly, he looked a bit shy, which frankly mystified me. "Hey, I was wondering…" Danny trailed off, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

"Yeah?" I prompted gently. "I've got people to see, places to be, Danny boy! Hurry up!"

Danny rolled his eyes at my teasing. "Jeez, so impatient, Max. I guess that all of you Rated R are. Fang practically dragged Gazzy out of the locker room today. Apparently he had something earth shattering to tell him that couldn't wait ten minutes."

My thoughts immediately shot to last night in my front yard. Neither of us had spoken of it today, but the moment seemed almost… sacred, strangely. Was Fang going to gossip about it to Gazzy? That didn't seem like something Fang would do, but I couldn't think of anything else for Fang to have to tell Gazzy so urgently.

"So, I was wondering…" Danny continued, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Do you think if I asked Nudge out, she would say yes? I mean, I know that I'm a senior and she's only a freshman, which could be considered creepy, but I really do like her," Danny babbled.

He sounded a bit like Nudge right now.

I smiled at him, holding up a hand to cut off his rant. "I think that Nudge would be ecstatic to go out with you," I told him truthfully. "She wouldn't care about the whole age difference. I mean, we know you, Danny. It's not like you're going to rape her or something."

Danny looked alarmed at the very thought, and I couldn't help but laugh. He was in his senior year of high school, yet he was as innocent as Angel or Maria. Frankly, it was adorable. Nudge was one lucky girl.

"Well, thanks for your input!" Danny said, a slow smile breaking out on his face. "See you later, Max!" With that, Danny jogged off in the direction of the parking lot.

I smiled to myself as I headed for the entrance again. Nudge would be over the moon when Danny asked her out. She had been moaning for the past week and a half how Danny would never notice her because she was a lowly freshman and he was a glorious senior.

I beg to differ. Nudge had a nice little surprise coming up for her. She deserved it.

Then I thought of the conversation in the locker room, and scowled to myself.

Maybe Nudge didn't deserve it after all.

**Meh, this chapter is half the length of my usuals… but there was honestly nothing else to add. ANYWAYZAS, please review!**

~TMI~


	25. I Really Hate Yoga

**Dedicated to: all of my beautiful reviewers, especially ixdookiie, Dreamin'ofABlondFang, and FANGirlforFANG! to the first two- Fanfiction deleted your usernames from the list last chappie. I couldve SWORN on my deceased turtle that I wrote you two down. And to FANGirlforFANG because your review made me feel amazing! Thanks!******

**WeLuvU, I love YOU! your review made my day. =D I was like, OMG SOMEONE ELSE BESIDES ME SAID ANYWAYZAS!******

**HEY AMAZING GRACE! I don't mind your Barca rants, although I can assure you that you are way more informed on them than I am. You definitely seem like a dedicated fan! =D Barca IS definitely amazing. And I idolize Messi! He's so good with the ball that it's totally unfair. =P and I love Xavi too...******

**Gazzy: AN IS GETTING TOO LONG...******

**Hehe. I'm so evil. You'll see why, and hate me for it. Enjoy! =D******

**Disclaimer: In class, the guys behind me were talking. *Changed names*****  
****Finn; Joe is such a stud.****  
****Mark: I know, right? He's probably already done with his homework.****  
****Finn: and he's so funny.****  
****Mark: and really cool.****  
****Finn: Joe is like, a man goddess.****  
****Me: -turns around- man goddess? Why don't you just say a god?****  
****Finn: -shrugs- man goddess sounds better.******

**I highly doubt that JP has ever had a crush on said 'man goddess', like a certain Author may or may not have. XD**

**MPOV**

I was in a bad mood again today.

By now, Fang had learned to be a good little bestie and sit quietly while I was fuming internally for no apparent reason. He had realized that any and all attempts to calm me down were futile. He had also realized that after I had participated in second period PE, I was usually back to my normal self.

But right now, I hasn't ran yet today, and I was in a horrible mood.

Therefore, during announcements in homeroom, I glared straight ahead at the white board like it had kicked my puppy. Well, if I had a puppy. I didn't, even though Mom encountered a lot of strays and newborns at her veterinary practice. Why didn't I have a puppy, anyway? I wanted a puppy!

My eyes narrowed further. "Freaking puppy," I muttered, clenching my fists under the desk.

"What?" Fang asked, looking slightly bemused by my grumblings.

"Nothing," I ground out, fuming at my puppyless existence. Fang shrugged, falling back into his practiced silence. I shook my head irritatedly, feeling the random perpetual annoyance flowing through me.

As soon as the announcements ended, Fang dug through his binder, eventually extracting a blue sheet of paper. "I need to talk to Judy about our math project. Be right back, sunshine," Fang murmured, his face completely straight and his voice dead serious.

I was not amused.

I glared at him. "Don't call me sunshine!" I barked. Fang just smirked and continued towards Judy's desk, where the petite Asian girl was seated reading a book.

I settled down lower in my chair, crossing my arms and glaring steadily at no one in particular. The whole issue about not having a puppy was really irritating me now that I had thought of it. I resolved to speak with my mother about the matter. Maximum Ride needed a puppy, pronto.

At this moment in time, while I was stewing over ways to acquire a puppy, the door opened, and a tall blond boy walked cautiously inside.

There was an instant chorus of female sighs flowing across the room, which I took as a bad sign. Welcome Prince Charming #2 to Miss James' homeroom.

"And I thought I was lucky to have Fang in our class!" a girl that I didn't know (or particularly want to know) whispered excitedly to her friend. "Now we have two total hawtties!"

You know that you've been spending too much time with Nudge when you mentally picture 'hotties' being spelled 'hawtties'.

Miss James, being the elegant and gracious teacher she was, stood up and smiled warmly at the boy. "Hello, how may I help you?" she inquired, looking questioningly at the boy.

He blushed, obviously not used to the attention he was receiving from the class. "I, umm, just transferred here out of home schooling," he murmured, his eyes flicking nervously over the giggling girls in the front row. "I was told to give you this?" He made it sound like a question as he offered a pink paper slip to Miss James.

Miss James nodded as she quickly read the note, then handed it back to the boy. "Why don't you introduce yourself?" Miss James suggested, waving the boy forward.

There was instant silence as everyone eyed him.

He wasn't bad looking, I guess. Spiky golden blond hair, blue eyes, tall and athletic looking. He wore dark skinny jeans and a plaid shirt with purple skate shoes, and had a silver bracelet on his left wrist. To me, he looked like the stereotypical Californian I had been waiting to see since I moved here from Nevada.

Eh. He wasn't particularly interesting.

"Hi, I'm, umm, Dylan Gunther? I have been homeschooled for my whole life. I like to run and swim, and I, uh, have a pet parakeet?" Dylan tended to make his statements resemble questions.

His lack of self-confidence irked me.

"Great, it's nice to have you Dylan," Miss James said warmly. "Why did you decide to suddenly switch to public schooling?"

Dylan pinkened again, and several people (all girls) giggled wildly. "I, umm, personal reasons," Dylan stammered.

"Oh, I'm sorry for asking," Miss James apologized, looking sympathetic.

"No problem," Dylan murmured, staring down at his purple skate shoes.

"Go pick any seat you like, Dylan. The period is almost over. We'll assign you a seat tomorrow," Miss James promised.

"Okay," Dylan murmured again, shuffling down the row.

I rolled my eyes, watching boredly as four different girls started flirting with the new guy at once. Fang was still talking avidly to Judy, completely ignoring the new kid as he walked cautiously through the desks. I had no one to take my inexplicable anger out on until second period, so I simply continued to glare straight forward.

After a minute, someone sat down in the chair next to me.

It wasn't Fang.

My eyes flew open, and I instantly analyzed the information I had. The breathing pattern of the someone was far different from Fang's, and they didn't possess the soundless grace Fang had. The chair creaked loudly under them, where it was silent as the grave whenever Fang sat.

I glared at the non-Fang person. "What do you want?"

Dylan looked startled, and half-rose out of Fang's seat in his surprise. "Excuse me?" he asked, his blue eyes almost comically wide.

I glared at him, my bad mood simmering in my chest and stoking the angry words slipping off my tongue. "You're excused," I replied bitingly.

Dylan frowned at me. "What's your problem?"

"You're sitting in my friend's seat," I explained with exaggerated patience. "Get out. Now."

Dylan stood, and with another look at me, walked off to another corner of the room. I crossed my arms again, a satisfied smirk sidling onto my face. I love irritating people.

Fang finally finished his far too long and drawn out discussion with Judy, walking back over and sitting down in his seat. I felt a tiny bit of my bad mood subside as I locked eyes with him. Just Fang's presence could cheer me up sometimes. "Was he bothering you?" Fang asked, ever my sharp-eyed bestie.

I shrugged, glaring at Dylan's back as a way of reply. Fang laughed, and another tendril of anger dissipated at the wonderful sound he produced. "Max, you probably scared him away with one look," Fang informed me, smirking.

I shrugged again. "It was his fault that he tried to sit in your seat," I reasoned.

Before we could say anything else, the bell rang, and everyone swarmed out the door.

Guess who was in my science class?

"You seem to love sitting in the wrong seats," I snarled at Dylan. He was reclining in my chair, chatting idly with JJ. My treacherous science partner looked completely infatuated with Dylan, and kept twirling her hair flirtatiously around her fingers as they talked.

Dylan looked up at me, shrugged, and got out of my seat. "Sorry," he replied easily, holding his hands up in a motion of surrender. Impatiently, I glared at him once before falling heavily into my seat.

JJ's wide smile disappeared as Dylan walked away. "Max! Why were you so rude?" JJ hissed, looking peeved.

"He's a jerk," I informed her. "Case closed." With that, I settled back in my chair, crossed my arms, and prepared to zone out for the class period. Science never interested me very much, anyway.

JJ was mad at me, but my Moody Max self didn't particularly care at the moment. We ignored each other for the whole period, pointedly avoiding each other's eyes and speaking to other people when possible.

I really needed to get some running in, or I'm going to alienate all of my friends from me by lunch time.

When the bell rang to signal the end of science, I practically sprinted out of the room. Finally, time to run!

I changed into my PE clothes as fast as humanly possible, ignoring all attempts made by Terra and Nudge to get me to talk to them about shopping or some other junk. When they finally gave up and started changing their own clothes, I was already dressed and raring to run.

I jogged out into the gym, waiting for the rest of the class to stumble in. Mr. Tulney was sitting on the lowest set of bleachers, consulting something on his clipboard. "Hi," I greeted the teacher shortly. I wanted to get out on the track already!

Mr. Tulney looked up at me and smiled. "Hello, Max! We're starting a new unit today," he informed me, looking pleased. I nodded, barely listening to his long speech about how our new unit would be fantastic and enlightening. My feet tapped impatiently on the floor, the toes of my sneakers scuffing onto the polished wood.

Finally, the whole class had congregated around Mr. Tulney and he yelled, "Silence!"

There was instant quiet.

Mr. Tulney smiled, gesturing somewhere behind us. A tall, thin lady with graying hair stepped forward out of the crowd of students and stood beside our teacher. "Today, I'm pleased to introduce to you our guest teacher for today, Ms. Eve Young. We will be focusing on inner calm and strength, and so are having a yoga unit!" Mr. Tulney gushed.

I stared at him.

"Therefore, to keep a calm atmosphere in the class, we will not be doing any running this week!"

You have _got_ to be kidding me.

Ms. Eve Young smiled graciously at us, unrolling her lovely little lilac yoga mat and placing it on the floor at the head of the class. "Please spread out, and copy the positions I assume. The first shall be the Cat and the Cow."

What force in this horribly cruel world hates me _so_ much?

"After the Cat and Cow, we will assume the Downward Facing Dog position," Ms. Eve Young continued, her pleasant tone grating awfully on my frustrated ears.

"I'll show you a downward facing dog," I muttered, feeling the sudden urge to throttle someone.

Nudge, Terra, and Gazzy giggled from their places spread out beside me. "Max, stop talking and be a downward dog," Gazzy chided teasingly. "You need to live the pose!"

"Shut up before I murder you," I growled.

"You can't do that," Gazzy pointed out, grinning mischievously. "We have a game today, and Anne would be super pissed if you kill me."

I thought about that, and scowled at his logic. "Damn it," I muttered, glaring at the floor. Gazzy laughed, and my fingers itched to punch his face in.

"Do not disturb the flow of energy! No talking!" Ms. Eve Young ordered.

"Yeah, Max. Don't disturb the energy," Nudge scolded mockingly.

"Screw it," I growled under my breath.

Ms. Eve Young did not appear to hear my rebellious mutterings, and instead rose to her feet, standing up way too straight for my taste. "Now it is time for the Mountain pose. Become the mountain, strong and immobile."

I hate yoga.

"Max! Be a mountain!"

Scratch that. I _really_ hate yoga.

**O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O**

"Max, what does x equal in problem twenty four?" Nudge whispered to me, tapping her pink pencil hyperactively against her textbook. Ella stared helplessly at her paper, obviously confused beyond comprehension by problem twenty four.

"X equals I really don't care," I hissed back, pounding my head against the desk.

"Max, please do not injure yourself," Ms. Aivels requested quietly, causing some other kids to snicker at my rebuking. I rolled my eyes, still in the clutches of my bad mood, but nevertheless halted my head-desking.

Math has never, ever been my strong point. Since kindergarten when I proudly announced that four plus three was ten, to second grade when I told the teacher that ten times zero was one hundred, to seventh grade when I thought that the distributive property meant you just added everything together- I've always been able to mess up the simplest of problems. The strangest thing about my math skills (or lack thereof) however, was that even though I never failed to say that three times three was six, I could almost always correctly solve those 'impossible' problems that drove everyone else crazy.

Oh, the irony.

However, even though Nudge and Ella were obviously desperate for me to step in and solve the problem for them, I was not in the mood. Which stupid idiot decided that it would be a good idea to have angsty teenagers doing yoga instead of getting good old fashioned exercise? I, for one, greatly needed my daily exercise in PE! The school would be receiving a letter of complaint from Maximum Ride about this crap.

I stewed over the injustice of yoga in PE for the rest of algebra, barely paying attention to the problems I was attempting to solve. There was probably going to be a consequence for my inattention tomorrow, but frankly, right now I did not care in the least.

Fourth period History found me testing how much pressure it took to snap a six-inch, #2 Ticonderoga pencil in half. Iggy was idly disassembling his pen and putting it back together again beside me, and neither of us were paying a cent of attention to what Ms. Hell was lecturing about in the front of the room.

_Snap._

"There goes another perfectly innocent pencil," Iggy remarked casually, slipping the ink cartridge back into his pen. "Why must you take out your anger on simple, unsuspecting writing utensils, Max?"

"Because I was forced to do yoga in PE instead of taking my anger out on something sensible like running, or dodgeball," I retorted, fingering the two seperate pieces of pencil in my hands.

Iggy nodded wisely. "Ah, so you're feeling repressed?"

I snorted, tossing the pencil halves at Iggy. They pegged the side of his head, and he scowled, stabbing my arm with the point of his pen in retaliation. I glared at him, kicking his shin under the desk.

"Ow," Iggy hissed, rubbing his kickrd leg. "Take your repression out on someone else, Max! Like, those poor pencils!"

I smirked, grabbing another yellow Ticonderoga out of my pencil pouch. "I think I will," I murmured, focusing on the pressure quota I had to fill to make the pencil splinter. There's a science to snapping pencils, you know.

"I think you need a few sessions with Richie about your anger issues, Max," Iggy observed.

I looked up at him, still holding my pencil poised to break. "Who's Richie?"

Before Iggy could answer me, Ms. Hell snapped, "Mr. Fields! Office, now!"

Iggy rolled his sightless eyes, stood up from the desk, and walked out of the classroom. "Ms. Ride, I want you to come partner with Mr. Gunther for the rest of the period, and show him our work and study habits in Room Six," Ms. Hell ordered.

I sighed loudly, standing up and grabbing my stuff before moving to the desk in the front where 'Mr. Gunther' was seated. It was that Dylan kid again, looking at me as if I was about to kick his puppy.

I scowled as I remembered my puppy tangent from this morning. I really needed to speak with my mother about getting a dog soon.

"So, what's up?" Dylan tried, smiling brightly at me as I dropped my stuff on the desk and sat down next to him.

"I really hate yoga, I want to punch something very badly, and I wasn't listening to a word Ms. Hell was saying the entire period, so you're pretty much on your own, Gunther," I replied.

Dylan looked fairly shocked at my response. He had obviously never met a girl of my calibre before. "Umm, the lecture was about modern day politics," Dylan explained slowly, "and how they relate to early American political views?"

"Would you please stop making everything sound like a question?" I asked snidely. I wanted nothing more than to be running the crap out of me on the track right now, not sitting in a history class room with a stereotypical Cali boy who was far too shy for my liking.

Dylan looked offended by my request, and focused his gaze on his sheet of notes instead. He was silent for the rest of the period.

I leaned back in my chair, internally seething. Why was Iggy always being called to the office nowadays? And who the hell was Richie?

I couldn't get out of that class room fast enough when the bell rang.

Iggy was emerging from a door by the office that I didn't recognize when I walked by. "Hi," I said tersely, to let him know I was there.

Iggy grinned, unaffected by my moodiness. "Hey Max! Richie said that he would love to talk to you about your feelings anytime, by the way."

I brushed off his comment, ignoring the Richie reference. "I'm going to go run around the track a few times, try to burn some of my teenage angst off," I muttered, walking quickly past him and towards the doors that led outside.

Iggy laughed, obviously in a good mood. "Have fun, Max!" he called after me as I rushed out the doors.

I broke into a jog as I headed towards the track ringing the athletic field. I needed to run, or I would bite someone's head off soon.

"Hey, Max!"

I groaned, whirling around to face the speaker. It was Anne, jogging towards me with her ever present clipboard in hand. "Hi Anne," I replied, trying to be cordial.

Anne furrowed an eyebrow at my clipped tone of voice, but ignored it. "Where are you going? Have you eaten yet?" Anne asked, rapping her clipboard with her knuckles.

"I'm gonna run a few laps to burn off some steam," I explained, glancing somewhat longingly towards the track.

Anne looked alarmed. "Max, you can't do that," she argued, her gray eyes wide and serious.

I stared at her, wondering if this was really my hard core soccer coach advising me not to run a few extra laps. "Umm, why?" I asked, trying to curb the impatience I was feeling from my tone.

"We have a game against Forester today! You can't go running and burn up some needed energy instead of eating your lunch," Anne reminded me, looking disapproving.

I groaned again. "I'll be fine, Anne. It's just a few laps, and I'll eat afterwards," I said, trying to sound convincing. "I'm not going to die of exhaustion before the game from a few harmless laps."

Anne shook her head vigorously. "I forbid you from running before the game, Max," Anne ordered, her tone serious. "We need you in top performance mode today. Forester always has good teams."

"Fine then," I snapped, whirling around and walking haughtily back towards the school. "I'll just beat someone up to displace my anger instead."

"Max!" Anne yelled after me, but I was already inside. I was fuming again, feeling the need to sprint and just keep sprinting. Why did Anne have to show up and stop me from running?

The world just hated me today.

**FPOV**

I sat down next to Ella at the lunch table, hoping that she could act as a barrier between Nudge and I. Nudge was acting even more hyper and excited than usual today, and I just didn't need her chatter right now.

"Hey Ells," I greeted her. Ella looked at me and smiled, but it was a much more devious and calculating smile than I was used to seeing on her. I hadn't seen her smile like that since that first day she and Max had moved to town.

"Hi Fang," Ella replied sweetly, keeping up her devious smile. I stared at her, feeling slightly alarmed, but chose to ignore her odd attitude. Instead, I unwrapped my sandwich and began to eat.

Iggy squeezed into the space on the bench between Ella and I, causing Ella to giggle and I to roll my eyes and scoot away. Iggy was completely crushing on Ella, and the feeling was very mutual, that much was obvious. But I highly doubted that either of them would be as hesitant to admit it as I was feeling about the very idea of telling Max about my crush on her.

Speaking of Max, she usually came in to lunch with Iggy. Where was she?

"Hey Igs, where's Max?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Of course, with friends like I have, anything I say about a girl is interpreted as, "I love her and need to know her exact whereabouts this instant or I will spontaneously combust out of grief."

Nudge looked miffed all of a sudden, and shot her hand out to grab hold of the collar of my shirt. She leaned in close to me, glaring daggers from her normally good-natured brown eyes. "Fang Rianild, when were you planning to tell me you finally admitted to yourself that you love Max?"

I stared at her, uncomprehending for a moment. Then, I gathered my wits together for an eloquent retort.

"Wha?"

"You love Max!" Nudge practically screamed. I yanked my shirt out of her hand, simultaneously slapping my own hand firmly across her big mouth to stop any more of my personal secrets from escaping.

Instead of denying Nudge's words very profusely like I should have, I managed to blurt out, "Who told you that?"

"Gazzy," Ella, Nudge, Terra, and Iggy all chorused.

I scowled, making a mental note to yell at my loudmouthed friend later on. "Fine then. You all knew before I did anyway," I muttered rebelliously.

"Heck yeah we did, honey," Terra snorted.

"So where is Max then?" I insisted, wanting to know the answer to my question.

Iggy shrugged. "I was in the office during fifth period. I haven't seen her since then," he reported.

Nudge laughed suddenly, and we all turned to her. "I saw Max heading outside a few minutes ago," she explained, grinning mischievously. "We had yoga in PE today, and Max was growling about how we didn't get to run. She's probably out there sprinting off her anger issues right now."

"Seriously, that girl should see Richie," Iggy murmured, almost to himself.

"Who's Richie?" Ella asked, nudging him gently with her elbow.

Iggy opened his mouth to answer, hesitating slightly, when he was cut off by a very peeved Max slamming her lunch on the table and throwing herself down on the bench next to me. "I hate the world, and I'm fairly sure the feeling is a mutual one," Max growled, crossing her arms and glaring at the blue plastic table top.

"What did the world do to you now?" I asked, very seriously.

Max whipped her head around to face me, and shot me a look that could probably kill a weaker person than me. "Anne wouldn't let me run any  
laps! She says she wants me to conserve my energy for the game," Max spat, slamming her fist down on the table. "I could punch someone right now!"

Instantly, everyone at the table besides me edged carefully away from Max, obviously wary of being injured. I rolled my eyes at their behavior, and moved closer to Max instead. "It's okay," I assured her, grasping her shoulder comfortingly in my hand. "You can take out your anger on the Forester team."

Max's eyes brightened, and she grinned evilly, the effect heightened by her menacing black eye. "Fang is the only one who understands me,"  
she announced suddenly, her bad mood abruptly giving way to a real smile as she wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back, smirking at everyone else at the table, who were looking at me with dumbfounded expressions on their faces, like I was a god or something.

"How did you do that?" Ella hissed at me after Max had let go and started busily tearing into her lunch. "Max has always had random mood swings where she's like, a caged lioness, and nothing else will soothe her except running. Yet you just totally calmed her down!"

I smirked. "I am amazing, aren't I?" I replied airily.

Ella grinned. "Can you come live at our house, so you can calm Max down all the time?" she asked hopefully.

I thought about it, then regretfully shook my head. "Sorry, but I don't think that will work for my mom," I explained solemnly.

Ella nodded in realization. "I totally understand. But you seriously need to do this more often."

"I didn't know I could do that until just now," I confessed, glancing over to make sure Max wasn't listening. Luckily, she was fully engrossed in eating her sandwich, so I continued. "Usually I just stay out of the way and let Max run off her anger."

Ella laughed, sniffing in agreement as she bit into her apple. "That's what I do too," she agreed.

"So who's ready to go kick Forester's asses?" Gazzy yelled, suddenly appearing at the head of the table. He slammed his hands on the edge and began bouncing up and down, his face lit up with excitement.

"I am," Nudge declared, pumping her fist and tossing her ponytail. "I'm as ready as… as… something that's really ready!" she improvised, grinning at her own idiocy.

"Smooth, Nudge," Max murmured, grinning at her. Nudge pouted, sticking her tongue out at Max, but Max didn't seem to notice nor care. She was already focused on her food again.

Max has a very one track mind.

"I'm gonna head out now," I said, standing up and tossing my empty lunch bag into the trash.

"I'll come with," Max offered, standing up also. She tossed her own garbage away and followed me from the table, still munching on some sort of chips. I shrugged, leading the way out of the lunch room and back to our lockers to stow my stuff.

Max twirled the combination lock lazily around, opening the door and extracting her things quickly. "It sucks that Anne won't let us scrimmage anymore."

"Yep," I agreed, thinking wistfully of the morning games we used to play.

Max nodded, and we lapsed into silence for a moment before she continued. "So, is Forester good?" she asked, looking suddenly grim.

I shrugged. "I don't know. This is my first year on the team too, remember?"

Max nodded. "Yeah, but you've lived here forever, and you've gone to this school for like, six months! I've been here for around one month. Therefore, you should be aware of how good certain schools are at certain sports," she concluded.

I stared at her. "Just ask one of the older players," I suggested, wondering how many more surprises Max was going to throw at me today. I swear, she had more moods in her for one day than a rainbow had colors. Already today she had been inexplicably furious at everyone and everything, then suddenly gotten happy, and now she was acting all logical.

Which was strange, since Max hates logic.

"I'll just ask Juliann," she decided. Idly, Max flipped her hair over her shoulder, and I found my gaze being forcibly dragged to follow its path.

Dammit. I am so whipped.

"Fang?" Max asked, sounding slightly concerned. I tore my eyes away from her hair and focused on her face again.

"Yeah?" I replied, hoping I didn't sound guilty or anything. Nonchalance was the key here.

"Ms. Rykitel opened the door…" Max trailed off, gesturing at the now open door to the art classroom.

"Oh. Right," I murmured, following her into the room and taking a seat at our usual desk. Max and I doodled quietly in a companionable silence as the rest of the class slowly filtered in.

Suddenly, Max elbowed me hard in the ribs. I didn't flinch, simply looking up at her with a blank expression on my face. Was she suddenly angry again?

Max was staring at the front of the room. "It's that Dylan kid again," she hissed, obviously displeased. "He's in every single one of my classes."

I looked up at the front of the room again, seeing the blond kid from homeroom and science class standing awkwardly by Ms. Rykitel's desk. "Why do you hate him?" I asked, curious as to Max's instant dislike of the poor kid.

Max's eyes widened, and she shook her head fervently. "I don't hate him," she insisted, "it's just that he… reminds me of a guy I knew in Nevada," she finished quietly.

"Okay," I replied simply, sensing that this was a sore subject for her. Instead of prolonging the conversation and risking another possible Max Mood coming on, I changed topics. "I've heard that the Forester defense is pretty strong this year."

Max looked at me sharply, a startled look on her face. "You said you didn't know anything about the Forester team!" she accused, instantly forgetting about Dylan.

I shrugged, fighting off a smile and keeping my face perfectly straight. "I lied," I informed her airily.

Max elbowed me again, but this time she was grinning. "Well, prodigy defense or not, you, me, Gazzy, Rosanna, and everyone on our freaking team is gonna pound Forester!" Max slammed her fist against the table, causing several strange looks to turn her way. I rolled my eyes, but still nodded in agreement.

Why do we have six periods of school, when all I want to do is get out on the field and play some serious game?

"Today we are going to be doing some partner art with your deskmate, molding clay models of fruit," Ms. Rykitel announced, smiling brightly at us. "I will be handing out your fruits momentarily, and you may begin as soon as you receive yours. Be careful to shape the details into your clay!"

Instantly, Max's face morphed into a sulky scowl. "I hate clay," she muttered, glaring at the desk.

I sighed internally. It was going to be a long period.

**Lol, I just kept forgetting to write this chapter. I'm trying to write some updates for the eleven other stories I have, so yeah… next update will have a high possibility of being later.******

**Review please! And hey, who here is dreading/anticipating the MR movie? I AM! I heard that Avan Jogia is Fang, and Alex Pettyfer is Iggy? Is that true?******

**~TMI~**


	26. Trouble with Clay and Lynxes vs Pythons

**Dedicated to: SIERRA156, BECAUSE HER REVIEW WAS SO FREAKING****HILARIOUS! I almost choked on my laughter while reading it.******

**Also, whenever I get an awesome review, I forward it to my friends.****Salute Horses told me to tell Sierra156 that she is, "her slave****forever, and she desperately wants to know how Sierra156 is so****hilarious."******

**I think that dedications now on will be to the most consistent,****helpful, and/or hilarious reviews.**

**P.S. Amazing Grace, do you follow only Barca, or all soccer? 'Cause there was an amazing Brazil/Mexico game last night. It was very dirty, foul-wise, but the goals were beautiful.**

"Max, give me the clay."

"No! The clay WILL obey me!"

"Max, you suck at clay. Give it to me."

"Aww, I'm gonna cry Fang. Now wait a minute while I turn this freaking lump into a freaking apple!"

"Max…"

"Wait a seco- HEY! Give it back!"

I tossed the purloined tan clay lump up and down in my hand, smirking triumphantly at Max. She looked quite akin to a bird of prey, actually, as she glared at me, and I had no doubt in my mind that the resemblance went past the scowl on her face.

"Fang," Max whined, her brown eyes imploring. "Let me try one more time."

I shook my head forcefully. "You'll make us both fail this class with your putrid attempts at apple crafting, Max dearest," I informed her bluntly, causing her to scowl yet again. "Now watch and learn."

I plucked and pulled carefully at the clay for several minutes, while Max seethed and grumbled in the background. Within moments, I had a slightly lopsided but still perfectly presentable apple in my hand."See?" I told her, showcasing my clay fruit.

In response, Max snatched the apple out of my hand and smashed it against the desk.

Needless to say, fruit was instantly reduced to a pancake.

Now it was my turn to whine. "Max!" I scolded, prising the apple pancake off the surface of the desk. "You do not destroy perfectly good apples for no reason!"

Max smiled sweetly at me. "I had a good reason," she replied innocently. "It was bugging me."

"It was an inanimate, unsuspecting, totally inconspicuous clay fruit! And you demolished it!" I declared, shaking the sad little clay pancake in her face.

Max's smile grew into an impish grin. "Aww, Fang has emotional attachments to his art!" she crooned. "How sweet!"

As way of replying, I stuffed the clay pancake in her face.

While Max sputtered and yelped, I sat back in my chair, crossed my arms, and smirked to myself.

That was so satisfying.

When Max had finally gotten all of the clay out of her nostrils and eyelashes, she turned and sent a death glare that could and would be lethal to some people. "Fang darling," she spat, her poisonous tone completely clashing with her word choice, "I think that was a totally unwise decision."

"Probably," I agreed amiably.

Max leaned closer, the clay bits clenched in her fists. Outwardly, I was as calm as ever, but on the inside I was feeling strangely jittery at our close proximity. "And you're going to pay," Max murmured, her face inches away from mine.

"Yep," I acknowledged the truth of that statement very readily.

Max leaned in a little closer, and a very bizarre and horribly timed image of her kissing me in the middle of art class flashed through my hormone crazed, teenage, male brain.

Of course, Max being Max, instead of kissing me like I was fantasizing about at the very moment, she ground the clay into my scalp with the heel of her hand.

I stood up, shocked and horrified at this treatment of my hair. I wouldn't ever admit so, nor would I even fully acknowledge it to myself, but my one true vanity was my hair.

And Max had just crushed a handful of modeling clay into it.

Naturally, she was laughing her ass off at the no doubt priceless expression on my visage.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ms. Rykitel demanded, instantly appearing at my side. She was several inches shorter than me, even with her heels, but that didn't seem to bother her as she scrutinized my shocked face and Max's laughing one.

Max instantly smoothed out her expression into a very innocent mask. "Fang got all of our modeling clay in his hair, and I was helping him get it out," Max offered sweetly to Ms. Rykitel, her brown eyes wide and naive. "Here Fang, let me get that for you," Max continued, standing up on her tip toes and gently extracting a chunk of tan clay from my hair.

Damn, this girl was a good actress. Ms Rykitel was lapping her act up like a kitten drinking milk. "How kind of you, Max," Ms. Rykitel praised my devious bestie. "Carry on then." And with that, the art teacher bustled quickly away.

"Yes Max, very kind," I stated dryly, pulling some more crumbling clay out of my hair. "How could you possibly be a nicer bestie?"

Max shrugged, flashing me a dazzling smile. "You're lucky to have me, Fangles," she concluded, grinning at me and leaning her head teasingly on my chest.

My brain halted communications for a moment, causing me to sit rigidly as Max reclined against me. I held my breath so I wouldn't inhale the scent of her hair, trying to start up my motor functions again. I patted her shoulder faintly with one hand, and Max sat up straight again, smiling once more.

"So what should we do now?" Max asked. "We don't have any clay anymore."

"I beg to differ," I murmured. Abruptly, I began to whip my head around like a dog, shaking the bits of clay out of my hair.

The crumbled pieces launched off my head, several pegging Max on their journey off my scalp.. I smirked at her, raking a hand roughly through my hair to dislodge any more clay that was being stubborn and clinging to my head. "There's your clay," I announced, pointing at the clay pieces spread willy nilly across our desk.

Scowling, Max smacked my arm and started piling up the bits of clay. "Okay, smarty pants," she practically snarled, "now you can build another fruit." Max shoved the fistful of clay bits at me and sank back into her seat, arms crossed.

Shaking my head, I smiled slightly and began molding the clay again. Glancing across the room, I caught the eye of the new kid, Dylan. He looked evenly at me for a moment before his gaze flickered to Max, whom he had apparently been watching for quite awhile. His partner was making several beautiful bananas, and Dylan seemed to have fashioned an acceptable fruit himself, but now he was content with simply staring at Max.

That was MY job, buddy.

I glared at him, but Dylan didn't seem to notice the death beam of ultimate hostility I was sending his way. His eyes were locked on Max, who was growling to herself slouched in her chair, obviously oblivious to her admirer. Dylan didn't seem to mind, though. His eyes were glued to Max, and he didn't pay any attention to his partner, who was trying to ask him a question.

I could totally understand why Max didn't like him.

"Fang?" Max asked suddenly.

I looked back at her, surprised to see that she wasn't grumbling about clay anymore. "Yes?" I replied, cocking my head at her.

Max grinned, pointing at my hand. "You mutilated our apple," she remarked. I looked down, realizing that as I had watched Dylan watching Max, I had started strangling the clay. It now resembled a lumpy, disheveled snake.

"Whoops?" I offered weakly.

"Yeah, oopsie daisy, Fangles," Max said sarcastically, swiping the clay from my grasp. "Let me try."

"But you hate clay," I pointed out, slightly afraid of what Max might do with the poor defensless clay at her disposal.

"And thank you Captain Obvious," she retorted, keeping her eyes on the clay. "Just gimme a sec."

Max focused on the clay, her fingers roughly stroking it into a new shape. I let my eyes travel from her hands to her face. Her tongue was poking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration, and her face was set in a firm scowl. I had to stifle a laugh more than once as Max unceremoniously pounded the clay into shape, her displeased expression never faltering once.

"There," she announced roughly, holding up the product of her toils. "Apple. Voilà."

A misshapen lump of the tan clay sat in the palm of Max's hand, looking very sorrowfully bedraggled.

"So?" Max demanded fiercely, searching my face.

"It's beautiful," I managed to say with a straight face.

Then I promptly burst out laughing, falling forward onto the desk and burying my head in my arms. Max shrieked in indignation, roughly slapping the back of my head. "Jerk," she grumbled, but I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Fang? Max?" Ms. Rykitel sounded confused again. "Are you two having problems working together?"

"No, Ms. Rykitel, it's okay," Max assured her, instantly angelically sweet as she spoke to the teacher. "Fang here had a back spasm, and he needed to crack it out."

_Back spasm?_ I glared at Max, who simply smiled back at me.

"Oh. Okay then," Ms. Rykitel said slowly, looking bemusedly between the two of us. "Are you okay, Fang?"

Max stifled a laugh, and I nodded stiffly to Ms. Rykitel. "Yes ma'm," I replied, my tone emotionless.

"It's alright, because the period is over in a few minutes. Clean up your clay, class, and you are dismissed!" Ms. Rykitel waved her hands about before disappearing into the art closet. There was an instant flutter of talking and clay-gathering around the room.

As soon as Ms. Rykitel was gone, Max perked up, grinning mischievously at me. "I hope you get over those back spasms, Fang," Max offered sweetly, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I rolled my eyes, although inside I was hyperaware of her touch. "Thanks for your concern, Ride," I replied dully, cleaning up Max's deformed apple. "I'll get rid of this horror," I continued, gesturing at the unfortunate lump in my hand.

Max's smile was suddenly transformed into a scowl. "It is not a horror," she growled at me. "It is a work of art!"

"It's an ugly," I shot back, standing up and preparing to go put the clay in the bucket up front.

"It's special!" Max insisted.

"Especially deformed," I murmured, letting a grin tug at my mouth as I walked up the aisle.

Just as I plopped the poor hideous apple into the bin, the bell rang. I was nearly stampeded by the students racing to leave the class room.

In the wake of the stampede, Max walked casually up the aisle carrying both mine and her stuff. She grinned as she dumped my things into my arms, jerking her head towards the door. "Well, Fang, we've got a game to play," Max stated, her eyes sparking with anticipation.

I accepted my things, smiling back at her. "I believe we do," I replied quietly. "Let's kick some ass."

**O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O**

"LYNXES!" Nudge screamed, looking dangerously fierce as we huddled around Anne.

"LYNXES!" we roared back at her, then split to the field. Max jogged casually up to her spot in center midfield, her ponytail flashing and black eye standing out threateningly on her tanned face.

Gazzy popped up next to me where I stood at the edge of the circle. He looked pumped, his blue eyes wide and his hair standing on end as if it was electrified. "Let's do this, Fang. We're the best forwards in the league," Gaszy murmured, bouncing up and down on his toes.

I nodded briefly, my eyes focused on the white soccer ball sitting on the center line. The Forester Pythons' forwards, clad in green jerseys, stepped idly up to the ball. One of the forwards was a small Asian girl with long French braids, and the other was a taller boy with spiked blond hair tipped with dark green.

Interesting.

The whistle blew, and I instantly forgot about the forward's hair as he tapped the ball forward to the Asian girl.

It was game time.

Gazzy launched himself at the forwards, and I followed behind more subtly to cover the girl trying to sneak around and provide a pass opening.

Just as the Asian girl tried to pass off around Gazzy to one of the Python midfielders, Danny swooped in and intercepted the ball. He sprinted up the line, juking another midfielder before passing off to Juliann.

Back at sweeper, Ella screamed, "Everybody UP!" We all instantly obeyed, partially because Ella was right and we needed to move farther up the field after the ball, and partially because Ella can be terrifying when she plays soccer.

Juliann was dribbling just ahead of me, and from the angle I had I could tell that the big, burly Python stopper was about to crash into her. I opened my mouth to yell a warning, when Max came out of nowhere and took the ball smoothly from Juliann before sprinting in the opposite direction. The Python stopper was caught on the wrong foot, and Max was speeding towards the goal.

"Beautiful take over!" Anne yelled from the side line. I didn't need to look over in her direction to know that she was crazily whipping her clipboard about. Anne really got into our games.

I ran towards the corner, trying to catch Max's eye while simultaneously slipping under the Python defense's radar. Max glanced my way, but then turned forward again and gestured at the goal with a free hand while in the middle of juking a defender.

Max is good at multi-tasking.

But I understood her point. After she had juked that last defender, she had an open shot on goal. Max drew back her foot to shoot, when suddenly a boy came out of nowhere and crashed into her. Max was knocked off the ball and sent flying to the side.

The whistle blew, and Max rolled over on the grass, sitting up with an angry scowl on her face. The boy who knocked her over offered a hand, and she grudgingly took it and stood up. "Foul for Cromwell, on number thirteen by number seven," the ref announced, jogging over quickly to where Juliann was setting up the ball for the kick.

Juliann ran up to the ball and crossed it over the goal box, sending it sailing directly to me. I saw the Forester defender coming at me out of the corner of my eye, so instead of trapping the ball I headed it directly back across the box. Danny caught the ball on his chest before dropping it to his feet, where he back-passed to Max. Max ran directly at the ball and slammed her foot into it.

The ball raced through the air, barely spinning at all, straight for the top left corner. From my angle, I could see that the ball was going to just miss the corner, but from where I was standing I was helpless to stop and redirect it into the goal.

Then, just as the ball was about to go out, Gazzy popped out of nowhere and headed it straight back across the goal. The ball bounced right under the goalie's arm, and Juliann ran up and slammed it into the back of the net. Raising her arms triumphantly above her head, Juliann raced back to the half line. There was a huge grin spread across her face, and she was practically glowing with happiness.

"Damn. That felt good!" Juliann murmured, bouncing up and down on her toes. "Let's do that again!"

The Pythons set the ball back up in the center, and I tuned Juliann out to focus on the game.

The Python forwards were skilled with their footwork, and they managed to juke Gazzy and I, and pass around Max, Danny, and Juliann.

However, then they met a very ticked off Nudge.

Apparently, ten minutes before school ended, Iggy had somehow managed to melt the entire contents of Nudge's make up bag. When Nudge had opened it, she was met with a gooey, brownish and pinkish sparkly mess.

Needless to say, she was pissed. Nudge had been on the rampage ever since school let out, and it appeared that she would be venting her anger on these poor, innocent soccer players.

Oh dear.

The Asian girl tried to wall pass around Nudge to the boy forward, but was brutally and forcefully blocked by said pissed off stopper. Nudge stole the ball altogether viciously from the girl, dribbling up the middle for a moment before passing off to Danny at the sideline with a bit more force than truly necessary.

I felt kinda bad for anyone who got in her way today.

By half time, the score was still 1-0 us, and we were all tired and sweaty from chasing the speedy Python players. Anne stood over us with her clipboard as we sipped at our drinks, scribbling furiously with her red felt pen.

"Okay! Listen up now," Anne ordered, tapping the pen loudly against the edge of the clipboard. "The Python forwards are fast. Ella had some great runs back at sweeper, and Lauri, those were some great saves you had. I want my midfielders to work even harder now. I'll sub you guys in and out as much as your hearts desire, as long as you're running hard and giving me one hundred and fifty percent! Are we clear?"

"Yep," Gazzy chirped, somehow still peppy and energetic. "Let's kick some Python booty!" Gazzy struck a very strange and bold pose.

"I swear Gaz, sometimes I think you're about ten years old," Nudge grumbled, still in a bad mood.

"Who are we?" Anne yelled suddenly, brandishing her clipboard.

"LYNXES!" we screamed back.

"Ford in goal, Ella sweeping, Nudge stopping, Matt and Lucas defensive wings, midfield left to right Liz, Danny, Sadie, forward triangle Max, Fang, Gaz! Score me a goal each at least, will you?"

"Oh yeah! Rated R is on the loose!" Nudge cheered, looking considerably happier at the chance to use her nickname for us. "Ride, Rianild, Richards, go!"

"Let's go!" Anne yelled, shooing us out onto the field with her clipboard.

The second half was a whirlwind of running, dribbling, passing, and scoring. And fouls. Lots and lots of fouls.

Interestingly enough, Max, Gazzy and I all earned ourselves another yellow card apiece. We really were gifted when it came to getting carded.

Gazzy's card was for swearing loudly, colorfully, and continuously after the Python sweeper slammed the ball into his… well, balls, from two feet away.

I was carded because the boy who was guarding me was a wimp and couldn't take the pushes I was sending his way. He fell on his butt seven times before the ref carded me for pushing him. I guess it was the only explanation the poor ref could think of that would justify why that defender kept flying three feet every time he went near me.

Frankly, I'm not even sure what Max got carded for. Something nasty, knowing Max.

Luckily, after our escapades dealing with the refs, Gazzy managed to steal the ball from a Python and dribble halfway up the field. He passed it off to Max, who controlled the ball and sent it straight to my feet without a single glance in my direction. I took off towards the goal, somehow sensing where Gazzy and Max had fallen into place to receive the ball.

We worked like a well-greased machine, fluently and without any kinks. Gazzy scored a shot off facing the opposite direction from the goal. With his back to his defender, he flipped the ball up from his feet to his thighs, then lobbed it up and performed a sort of standing bicycle kick. The ball flew over his shoulder, past his guard, and straight into an empty stretch of net.

Gazzy has inborn instinct for things like that.

Unfortunately, soon after Gazzy's goal, the Pythons managed to score two more on us, evening out the game. The first should have been offside, but the blind referee manning the sideline didn't say a word in our defense as the tiny Asian forward sped past Ella to receive the ball and sink it in the far corner.

The second shot, I have to admit, was a beauty. One of the Python midfielders juked Liz with a perfect elastico, then sped off down the sideline. The midfielder was fast, and I could tell that Ella was struggling to keep up with her.

Then, she made the most beautiful cut in the world, completely throwing Ella off balance so that she actually toppled over backwards into the turf. The midfielder raced further to the goal, raised her foot as if to shoot, then passed low across the goal to the forward with the green tipped hair. He shot out his right foot and tapped the ball directly into the corner. Ford didn't stand a chance.

So now we were tied 2-2. On the sideline, an irate Anne was screaming at us all to hurry up and get moving to the ball.

"C'mon Rated R! Score us a goal!" Nudge bellowed from the defensive line as Ford threw the ball out of the net and up towards the center to restart.

I clenched my teeth, and to my right I could see Max tense up in frustration. "They think we're gods or something," she muttered, her eyes locked on the ball as Juliann brought it up to the center line.

"With great talent comes great responsibility," Gazzy said, quoting our coach from our other team, the Raine Valley Lightning Strike. "That's what Coach Jeff always says."

"Screw your coach," Max grumbled rebelliously.

"Sorry, I don't swing that way, Max," I interrupted seriously, my face completely void of emotion.

Max stared at me for a second, obviously floored by my statement. Gazzy, on the other hand, was practically hacking his lungs out with laughter.

"Pull yourself together, Richards!" Anne screamed. Gazzy promptly quieted, but was still grinning widely as he wiped the tears out of his eyes.

"Dear lord, Fang, you're so quiet that I always forget how funny you are," Gazzy wheezed, trying to collect his breath again.

Max rolled her eyes, but I could detect a hint of a smile playing around her lips. I smiled to myself: mission accomplished.

We played hard for the rest of the half, but neither team could score again. Ella, Nudge, Matt and Lucas were playing spectacular defense for our team, and Ford had pulled off a few beautiful saves already. Our midfield were doing respectably well, and as always, Gazzy, Max and I were completely in sync.

Unfortunately, the Pythons had an unusually powerful defense, and they were difficult for even the amazing 'Rated R' to beat. It took the best of my moves, the height of Max's power, and all of Gazzy's speed to outplay the defense.

"UP!" Ella screamed, pushing our defense up as Sadie got a breakaway and sped down the side line. Her voice cracked awfully, the product of her yelling directions to our defense the entire game. "Geez, there goes my career as a singer," Ella grumbled.

"ELLA! GET THEM _UP_!" Anne shrieked from the side line, her voice hoarse and crackly.

"Scratch that. There goes ANNE'S career as a singer," Ella amended.

I smirked to myself, then hurried up to support Sadie as she ran up the line. 

Sadie was now trapped in the corner with the ball, and she was viciously elbowing her defender in an attempt to break free. I raced up behind her and yelled, "Sadie!"

Sadie glanced at me, then swiftly turned the ball and passed it to me. I promptly peeled off across the field, letting the defender just catch up to me before Croifing the ball and passing straight back to the now open Sadie.

Sadie took the ball back and ran back up the side without any hesitation at all. She had a clear path almost all the way up, since I had taken care of her defender. The only boy that got in Sadie's way was quickly dispatched by her with one startlingly convincing stepover.

Sadie turned at the corner and lobbed the ball to Liz, who was waiting to receive at the top of the box. Liz trapped the ball under her foot, then turned quickly and passed to Gazzy. Gazzy dribbled deeper in, swamped on three sides by defenders but still managing to battle his way through. Then, just as I thought he was going to shoot, Gazzy stepped over the ball and kicked it backwards with his heel, straight to Max's waiting foot.

Max slammed the ball out across the box in my direction. It sailed high over Danny, then started to descend in the middle of the box. Liz jumped to head it, but couldn't quite reach it.

Instantly, I realized that the ball was coming to me.

My mind went blank for a moment as the ball hurtled towards me. Its descent seemed to slow, and I could almost read the brand on the ball as it spun towards me.

Then automatically, without even the tiniest hint of a thought process leading the action, my right foot popped out and slammed perfectly into the ball. I could feel the quality in the kick the second my foot touched the ball.

Then, my mind blanked again, and I was lost in a sort of dreamlike state as I watched the ball spin away from my foot. The next thing I knew, the goalie was sprawled across the grass and the ball was in the back of the net.

"NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL RATED R!" Nudge screamed from the mid line as we all jogged back for the kick off. "GREAT WORK!"

"BEAUTIFUL! BEAUTIFUL!" Anne kept bellowing, shaking her clipboard violently around to emphasize her point.

Just then, the ref blew his whistle- once, twice, and three times. Game over.

I grinned as Gazzy slapped my hand in a high five and Max clapped me hard on the back, because scoring a winning goal is one of the best feelings this world has to offer. "Beautiful delivery, what a great way to end the match!" Nudge gushed, flinging her arms around my torso in a rib-crushing hug. "That was just an amazing play! It's like you three can read each other's minds!"

I glanced at Max, who was smiling brightly at me, wiping the sweaty hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her eyes.

I wish I could read her mind.

**EPOV**

I walked with Nudge and Gazzy a few yards behind Max and Fang on the way back to the locker rooms. Max and Fang were walking easily along, discussing the game and laughing every now and then. Nudge, I could tell, was trying to discreetly eavesdrop and analyze every word that Max said. The girl was desperate to find a sign coded into Max's behavior that meant she liked Fang. Nudge really wanted them to get together. And when I say really, I mean underlined, bolded, italicized _**REALLY!**_ In fact, it was almost an obsession for her.

I knew better than to think that Max was simply playing hard to get. She was my sister, after all.

My hypothesis was that Max was physically attracted to Fang because of his obvious good looks, and attracted also because of his personality and the way he acted around his friends. The only glitch in Max's feelings towards him was that subconsciously, she was afraid of the possibility that she liked Fang as more than a friend.

And then there was the problem with Sam. Stupid, stupid Sam.

Max just wasn't good enough for the idiotic jerk. No, he couldn't only have my beautiful, athletic and amazing sister. He had to cheat on her and hook up with Brigid Sloane too. And he didn't even care that much when Max caught him, either. He didn't run after her, or even try very hard to apologize. He just moved on, leaving Max's heart torn and mistrustful.

There wasn't a word to describe the hatred I felt for Sam and Brigid.

And still, here in a different state, Sam was leaving his tainted mark on Max. She couldn't allow herself to even think about a relationship with Fang. She forced herself to be blind to the perfect way they fit together.

All because of Sam.

Max never spoke of him again after she had caught him with Brigid, but I knew that she was still emotionally recovering from the incident. And the one thing Max had come away from that situation with was the belief that no one should be trusted with her heart. Not even Fang, who I knew for a fact would be the best thing that ever happened to Max.

Now how could we make her see that?

**Hiiiii guys! Sorry for the later update, but I warned you guys… =P Guess what? I had a soccer tournament in Reno last weekend, and my team won the whole thing! We were singing California Girls after the championship game to celebrate. XD**

**Hey you guys, guess what? I got an email for Fanfiction! So if you don't have an account and want to talk, my email is on my profile. I'll put it here too, if it will show up. Mypseudonymistmi gmail. Com**

**And someone asked about heights and ages? Max is 5'7", Ella 5'5", Nudge 5'5", Gazzy 5'10", Fang around 5'11", and Iggy 6'. And the thing about Ella being a year younger but still in the same grade? My plan is that Ells is a genius, and skipped a grade. That will be put into the text eventually too.**

**Review please? I love you all!**

**~TMI~**


	27. Fanfiction Denies Me Publication

**Sooo hey guys, this is TMI again…**

**Gazzy: o-**

**DON'T EVEN TRY TO SAY IT, GAZ!**

**Gazzy: obviously! Who else would be on YOUR account? Writing an AN for YOUR story?**

… **-_-**

**Umm, well Fanfiction is having a jerk fest, and denies me the ability to upload chapter 27. I've been TRYING to upload it for about FIVE DAYS. I was going to try to fix it myself without an AN, but people keep saying how slowly I update this story.**

**I'm sorry, but I think that is a little unfair. I get in chapters around one to three weeks, and they're always over three thousand words. Usually they're closer to six thousand! Also, I have very minimal grammar and spelling errors and I work really hard on the story line. So it makes me a little upset that some people don't appreciate the time and effort I put into School Days. Of course, there are some people who are very encouraging and don't mind the wait between chapters. I LOVE YOU GUYS BEST! =P**

**(remember too, my thirteen-year-old-ness. And my soccer-fanatic-ness. I have a full schedule, yet I squeeze in time to write for you guys.)**

**Also, I'm practically ditching all of my other stories to write this one. BE GRATEFUL. o.O**

**There are people on this site who don't update for MONTHS! (one of them being ME on my other stories… ehehehehe…) but on this story I am very diligent! So… please be patient! If the chapter continues to be difficult, I may have to retype all six thousand words… which I REALLY do not want to do.**

**Thank you for your time reading my rant! I'm sorry I had to put up this AN instead of a chapter. =/ BLAME FANFICTION! NOT ME! Tee hee.**

**(And put it this way- I really want Rick Riordan and James Patterson to update THEIR stories, but they take YEARS. =P)**

**~TMI~**


	28. Babysitting and Running Away

**Dedicated to: Erin319! Your review was incredibly hilarious and I loved it so much! Salute Horses also approves. OMG I'm still laughing…**

**_AND ALSO DEDICATED TO AMAZING GRACE, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!_ =D She's among my most faithful reviewers, and she is also the most dedicated Barcelona fan I have ever had the good fortune to meet. I'm so glad we're besties now! Yay!**

**I'm so sorry about the wait everyone, but Fanfiction had a huge whiney tantrum with this chapter. I tried splitting the chapter in half, reformatting it, everything! But it just wouldn't load. So I had to retype the whole damn thing. T_T I was so mad. Thank you for all of your support though- I truly appreciate it.**

**And I'm extremely tired. I just spelled 'ridiculous' as 'ridulous' and wondered why spell check was flipping out. (AKA EPIC FAIL)**

"Max! Max! Max! Max!" Nudge bounced on her heels at my side, already showered and fully dressed after the two-hour practice Anne had tortured us with.

I sat up from where I had been digging through my locker for my second sneaker. "Nudge! Nudge! Nudge!" I mimicked.

Nudge grinned, then immediately started talking. "Do you want to-"

"No," I answered immediately, going back to searching for the sneaker. I covered a smirk as I sensed Nudge's frustration with me growing.

"Max!" she whined, right on cue. "Let me finish!"

"Why should I?" I demanded bluntly. "You only ask me crap questions that I'm forced to say yes to anyway because you unleash your Bambi eyes on me!"

Nudge pouted at me. "Soooo not true. I totally do not do that at all, ever!" she declared, shaking her head emphatically at me.

"Really?" I challenged her, raising an eyebrow.

"Really," Nudge confirmed, still looking adamant about her innocence/

"What about when you made me buy you those purple heels 'cause you didn't have enough cash to buy them yourself?" I asked, pulling my shirt on over my head.

Nudge twisted the hem of her skirt in her fingers, suddenly faltering in her conviction that she never made me do anything for her with her Bambi eyes.

So the truth comes out.

"And when you made me wear that swimsuit instead of my own?" I added, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

"But yours was a one piece!" Nudge argued, looking honestly shocked. "You can't wear one pieces Max! You have too great of a body to wear those horrible things!"

I rolled my eyes, continuing my list instead of replying to her ridiculous comments. "And then you made me go up to that Python player yesterday and tell him that I didn't like the way he was staring at my girlfriend!"

Nudge burst out laughing at that one. "ZOMG, but you have to admit that that was hilarious! The look on his face!" Nudge gasped, doubling over and clutching at her stomach.

"My point still stands," I replied primly, trying not to laugh. I had to admit that her dare had been funny, and the look on Fang's face when I did it had also been totally priceless. I was fairly sure he had actually thought that I was secretly dating Nudge for a moment before he realized how improbable that was. It didn't make any sense if you knew either of us, especially considering that I had been continuously encouraging Danny to ask her out, but the Python victim didn't know that.

Speaking of which, Danny still hadn't asked yet. He had no reason to worry about being rejected, as I had assured him numerous times, but he kept hesitating for some reason. It was beginning to get on my nerves, especially since Nudge was always sighing about him now. The two of them needed to stop being cowards and get together already.

"Well trust me Max, you'll want to do this," Nudge promised, bringing me back to the present conversation. "I won't even have to use the Bambi eyes!"

"Nudge, yesterday was a joke. I'm straight. I like guys," I said immediately. I held up one of my cleats in defense between Nudge and I. I was only half-dressed after all- vulnerability here!

Nudge facepalmed. "Wow, really Max? You're so deep in the gutter that it's a miracle you're visible at all," she remarked. "I was going to offer you a babysitting job with Gazzy's adorable little sister."

I was immediately interested. "Her name is Angelique, right?" I asked. "Fang told me she's besties with Maria."

Nudge nodded. "Those girls are so close that you couldn't fit a sheet of paper between them," she confirmed. "It's very rare when they're either not with each other or talking about each other. It's like they're sisters, almost."

"So Angelique needs babysitting? When?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

Nudge grinned, knowing that I was hooked. After all, everyone I knew who had met Gazzy's sister gushed wildly about her. I was curious to see the girl for myself. "Call her Angel. She prefers it," Nudge advised me. "And she needs babysitting in about forty minutes. Fang and I were going to babysit while Angel's parents went out to dinner and I figured the more the merrier. Mr. and Mrs. Richards don't mind, and Angel loves new people."

"And why exactly can't Gazzy take care of his own sister?" I wondered aloud. It didn't make sense to me that Nudge and Fang were babysitting instead of Gazzy.

Nudge grimaced. "Gazzy is the worst babysitter in the world," she informed me bluntly. "And when I say worst, I mean that he feeds kids Cocoa Puffs and soda for dinner, then takes them outside and plays soccer with them until the parents come home."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really?"

"Really," Nudge confirmed. "It's slightly frightening. So the Richards' don't want to risk their daughter's health with Gazzy, and usually Fang and I volunteer to babysit instead. Gazzy has plans with Vlasis tonight anyway, so he won't be there."

"How long?" I asked as I zipped up my jacket. I bent over to tie my shoes, my hair falling against my face.

"Around six to ten, and I promise to feed you," Nudge replied.

I thought for a moment. It would be cool to hang out with Nudge and Fang, and I did really want to meet Angel. "Do you want me to ask Ella too?" I offered. "She'd probably love to join us."

"I already asked her, but…" Nudge paused, then grinned wildly and sang, "she has a date with Iggggyyyy!"

"With Iggy? Really? She didn't say anything to me!" Somehow, I was only slightly shocked by this news. Ella had been acting weirdly secretive all day, and Iggy had been grinning wildly throughout history. "So he really dug up the guts to ask her out?"

Nudge nodded, smirking happily to herself. "After much soul searching, Iggy decided to ask her to dinner," she crowed. "I'm so proud of my boy! He's all grown up!"

I rolled my eyes. "I thought Iggy was the player of the freshman class. Surely he's had female contact before?"

Nudge shook her head. "This is different. He really likes Ella- I can tell," she whispered, suddenly serious.. "All of those other girls meant practically nothing to him. The player title gave him someone to be. Iggy loves to act. But when Ella came…" Nudge trailed off, then shot up off the bench and started yelling, "BOY, HE WAS STARSTRUCK! SHE WOKE HIM UP DAILY! DON'T NEED NO STARBUCKS!"

"Nudge, SHUT UP!" I screamed, clapping my hands over my ears. "If you dare to quote Justin Bieber in a scenario regarding my sister and Iggy ever again, I will be forced to attack you," I promised.

Nudge giggled, then skipped out of the locker room. "I'll wait for you outside. Fang is getting impatient," she called to me from the door.

"Yes'm!" I yelled back, pulling the laces tight on my sneaker. After they were secure on my feet, I grasped my hair firmly and trapped it back in a ponytail. I glanced in the window to the coach's office to check my reflection, adjusting my hoody with one hand before heading out the door.

Fang and Nudge were quietly talking at one end of the hall. Nudge's normally bubbly face was looking uncharacteristically serious as she spoke. "I can't think of why she's so adamant about it, it's obvious she likes you! Ella said that there's a reason, but she won't tell me until-"

"Chill Nudge," Fang interrupted. I saw his eyes flicker over to me as he spoke. "Just take a deep breath and calm down."

"Whatcha talking about?" I asked curiously, popping up in front of them.

Nudge jumped slightly, obviously startled by my appearance. Fang, however, simply looked at me calmly. "The game yesterday," Fang replied readily. "How Rosanna totally demolished number twelve."

"Oh yeah! That was hilarious," I laughed, smiling at the memory. "So now it's only 5:30, and we're babysitting at six, right?" I continued, changing the subject back to the task at hand. "What do you guys want to do for half an hour?"

Nudge shrugged. "We can grab some food at my place," she suggested. "Gazzy's house is about seven minutes from mine, so we can get food from mine and head directly over to Gazzy's. Angel might want to go swimming at my house later though, because she loves my pool, so we will probably be doing a lot of going back and forth."

"That sounds like a plan then," I remarked. "I'm hungry, so let's go!"

Nudge pranced along in front of Fang and I on the way to her house, chattering freely about anything and everything that happened to cross her mind. I let myself relax into the scene, smiling as a breeze blew gently against my face, tugging at my hair. I glanced over at Fang only to find that he was intently studying me. The brooding expression on his face startled me slightly, but I tried not to show it as I grinned at him. "Are you drinking in my ultimate beauty, Fangles?" I teased, tossing my ponytail dramatically.

Fang smiled slightly, his dark eyes staying intense as they locked on my own brown ones. "Yes," he replied simply, before settling his hands in his pockets and turning to face forward.

Well then.

My lips turned up in a smile of their own accord. Fang always knew exactly what to say.

Five minutes later saw us barging unceremoniously into Nudge's house and storming the kitchen. Tanya came in after a few minutes, quietly watching as we raided her pantry for snacks "I take it no one has fed you kids yet?" she guessed, smiling teasingly at us.

Nudge shook her head. "Nope, they haven't! It's a horrible crime you know, since the first rule of every parent should be to always promptly feed their starving soccer player children! And once we have finished filling our tummies, we are off to babysit dear Angelkins!"

Tanya's smile grew. "Lucky kids you are, that's for sure, getting such a cute kid to babysit. Are you bringing Maria with you Fang?" she queried.

Fang shook his head, smiling slightly at Nudge's mom. "She's already there," he explained. "I'm taking her home after we've babysat."

Tanya nodded. "That makes sense," she agreed. "You better be off then. It's almost six o'clock!"

Nudge grabbed a bag of chips out of the cabinet and slammed the door shut. "Let's go team, move out!" she cried, slinging the bag over her shouldr and racing for the door.

I looked over at Fang. He shrugged, then started calmly after Nudge. "Bye Tanya," I said, grinning at Nudge's mom. "Thank you for the food!"

"No problem, Max. I hope your eye is feeling better soon," she replied, wincing sympathetically as she swept a critical look over my bruised eye.

"It's almost good as new," I assured her. "Thanks again!" I called over my shoulder as I hurried after Nudge and Fang.

When I finally caught up to the duo, they were munching on the chips and talking about something in hushed voices.

"Do you think I should just come out and ask her how she feels about you?" Nudge was saying, sounding slightly desperate. "It's just painful to see you guys apart!"

Fang shook his head. "I know how she feels about it. I don't want to ruin our friendship over this."

"You don't know for sure until you ask!" Nudge argued vehemently.

"Ask what? Who are you guys talking about? And what's with the let's-leave-Max-out-of-our-conversations deal going on?" I asked, popping in between them and stealing the bag of chips.

Fang's face went curiously blank, but Nudge seemed unperturbed. "Max, I have a question for you," she told me, simultaneously trying to yank the chip bag out of my grasp. I kept a firm hold on it, popping several into my mouth at the same time.

"Nudge, this is not a good time," Fang interrupted smoothly. "Look, we're here."

I looked up to find myself standing in front of a large white house with a cluttered garage sitting in front and a torn up lawn to the side. I grinned, picturing Gazzy shredding the grass while he practiced his soccer moves. I was fairly sure this was an accurate thoughts, judging from the state of the lawn and Gazzy's passion for soccer.

We walked up the path between garage and lawn to the large brown front door. Just as I was about to ring the doorbell, the door sprang wide open and a very disheveled Gazzy came speeding out.

"THE BRITISH ARE COMING!" he yelled, glancing furtively back over his shoulder. "Wait, scratch that. MARIA AND ANGE ARE COMING, AND THEY'RE WAY WORSE!" Gazy yelled, leaping oveor the fence surrounding his yard and sprinting down the street.

"Nice to see you too!" I hollered after him. Gazzy raised his hand in greeting without looking backwards, obviously keen on fleeing the scene quickly. Within seconds, he was out of sight.

Just as I turned around, two small blurs came barreling out the door and slammed into Fang's and Nudge's legs. "Fang!" squealed the dark-haired blur, hugging said boy's legs in a death grip. "I drawed you a picture in school today! It's Lulu and you hugging!"

"Sounds great," Fang replied softly, smiling as he bent down and ruffled his sister's curls. "Did you say hi to Max and Nudge, Ria?"

Maria popped away from Fang and came speeding over to me, instantly flinging herself at my waist in greeting. "Max!" she cheered. "I missed you! You didn't come for dinner in years!"

"Maria, Ella and I were at your house yesterday. Remember?" I reminded her, grinning at her.

Maria blinked her wide brown eyes. "Oh yeah. I forgot," she admitted cheerfully, pushing her curls out of her face. "NUDGE!" she squealed, suddenly rocketing off of my legs and into Nudge.

That girl was so adorable it should be illegal.

The small blonde blur who had originally slammed into Nudge was now clinging to Fang, therefore leaving an open space for Maria to tackle Nudge. While everyone was occupied with greetings, I tried to get a good look at the blonde blur.

She was the spitting image of Gazzy, except in girl form. They had the same bright blue eyes, the same blonde hair, and the same mischievous, pert faces. "Hi. My name is Max," I said, kneeling beside her.

Angel looked at me regally for a moment, then broke out into a wide, gap-toothed smile and launched herself at me in a hug. "Hi Max! I'm Angel," she replied brightly. "are you gonna babysit me tonight with Fang and Nudge? Can we go swimming in Nudge's pool?"

I blinked, slightly startled by her enthusiasm. "Umm, I don't know Angel. You'll have to ask Nudge if you can swim in her pool."

Angel detached herself from me, looking thoughtful. "Good idea, Max. I'll do that now," she told me seriously. Then she launched herself at Nudge, clinging onto the leg Maria wasn't occupying. "Nudge! Can we go swimming in your pool? Pretty please?"

Nudge grinned. "Of course we can! We could go right now, if you want, and eat dinner at my house," she offered.

Maria and Angel spontaneously broke out into enthusiastic cheers.

"Sounds like a plan," Fang murmured, smiling quietly at his little sister. Maria didn't notice, since she was too busy dancing around with Angel, but I saw the smile. Fang was really a softie about his sister. That was one of the things I liked best about him, actually.

"Go get your suits, ladies!" Angel, can you give Maria a swimsuit to borrow? Fang, you can just wear those shorts and you'll be fine. And Max, you can borrow one of my swimsuits," Nudge directed. At her orders, Angel and Maria barreled back into the house and up a staircase, presumably to retrieve their swimsuits.

A petite blonde woman poked her head around a corner inside the house. She smiled when she spotted us outside her door. "Fang! Nudge!" she greeted them brightly. "And who is this?" she asked, her gaze roaming over my black eye, but thankfully not turning suspicious."

"I'm Max, Mrs. Richards," I supplied helpfully, smiling at her. "My family just moved to town about a month ago."

"Oh yes, Maximum Ride! Gazzy was telling us all about you," the lady exclaimed. "Call me Ariel please. I feel like I already know you, but I'm pleased to meet you formally, Max."

A tall man, also blond, walked around the corner attempting to button his shirt. He stopped when he saw us, smiling in greeting. "Hello, ladies and gentleman," he said cheerfully. "Are you poor kids going to take care of the devil child for my wife and I?"

Ariel elbowed the man. "George! Don't speak that way about your children!" she scolded.

George rubbed his arm, but did not appear to be remorseful in the least. "I swear that it is cosmic irony that my daughter's name is Angel," he confided in us. "She's a right demon when she wants to be."

"We know how to handle her George, don't worry," Nudge assured him. "You and Ariel should go enjoy yourselves while we take care of Angel and Maria."

"We know that they'll be in capable hands," Ariel replied with another smile. "Come on George, we're going to be late for our dinner reservations. Thank you again for babysitting!"

The couple hurried out the door and into their car, and disappeared down the street. At that exact moment, Angel and Maria came rushing back down the stairs, fully suited up in their swimming gear. Maria had on a bright green swimsuit paired with adorable pink goggles in the shape of hearts set over her eyes. Angel was wearing a pink swimsuit with green heart shaped goggles. "We match!" they announced proudly.

"Beautiful!" Nudge praised them. "My little fashion princesses in the making! Let's go now, shall we?" Nudge, Maria, and Angel all raced down the path and started running down the street.

I grinned at Fang. "And then there were two," I said ominously.

Fang rolled his eyes at me, silently locking the door before turning and walking down the path. I frowned slightly as I hurried after him.

"Is something wrong, Fangles? You're being even more abnormally silent than usual today," I observed.

Fang didn't break stride as he turned to look at me. "Nothing drastic," he replied vaguely. "We should hurry, or Nudge is going to drown our charges somehow and we'll be blamed for it." Fang broke into a run, and I obediently sped upt o keep pace with him.

When we arrived back at Nudge's house, Tanya was nowhere in sight. We walked through the silent house and into the backyard, which was notably much less silent.

Maria and Angel were squealing happily as they paddled about in the water. Nudge sat at the edge supervising, trying to keep away from the choppy waves the girls sent splashing towards her. When she Fang and I, she leapt up and raced over to where we were standing.

Nudge immediately grabbed my wrist and started pulling me backwards towards the house. "Fang, you're on lifeguard duty for a moment!" Nudge called to him. "Max and I are going to change! We'll be right back!"

Fang nodded silently and disappeared from view as we re-entered Nudge's house. She practically dragged me up the stairs into her room and threw a red bikini at my face.

I wrinkled my nose at the skimpy pile of fabric huddled in front of me. "You expect me to wear this in front of innocent children?" I asked dubiously, holding the bikini top up by one of its thin halter straps.

Nudge nodded vigorously. "Innocent? No. Children? Yes. Fang? Yes," she sang.

I could feel my face start to change to match the color of the bikini at the mention of Fang seeing me in this lovely (coughnotcough) swimsuit. Stupid facial reactions to thoughts linked with my bestie.

"Why?" I asked plaintively.

Nudge grinned at me as she picked out her own bikini, a neon pink one with the word LOVE stamped in green across the butt. "Because you're gorgeous and you have no other choice but to wear the swimsuit or die of agony as you watch us have fun in the pool?" Nudge suggested. "Put the swimsuit on, Max. I swear that it isn't going to bite you."

"It might," I grumbled. However, I didn't really want to risk incurring Nudge's wrath, considering she was still not fully over Iggy melting her makeup bag yesterday. Therefore, five minutes later found me wearing a red bikini that probably didn't have enough material to fully clothe a baby. Luckily, I managed to snag a pair of silver board shorts out of Nudge's closet, and pulled them on over the miniscule bottoms. Again, the board shorts were barely eight inches long, but they somehow managed to make me feel more comfortable than the bikini bottoms alone.

When Nudge and I made our appearance down at the pool again, Angel and Maria started clapping wildly. "You look hot!" Maria informed me gleefully. Angel nodded in fervent agreement, giving me a lopsided thumbs up.

"Uhhh…" I so eloquently replied. I was kind of distracted by the girls' reactions to the bikini. They were six! Where had they learned that from?

Fang.

When I turned to address (aka yell at) the suspected culprit of Maria's strange comment, however, I was met with a scorching black gaze so heated that I felt like I was going to topple over from the intensity of it. The source of the said gaze was, of course, Fang. He stood with his arms crossed over his bare chest, simply staring at me with those unreadable black eyes. Quickly, so quickly that I wasn't even sure it really happened, Fang's gaze flickered down over my body before returning almost instantly to my eyes. I could've sworn that I felt a heat wave rush through my body from his eyes boring into me.

I was speechless.

Luckily for me, Nudge covered my idiotic silence well with her chatter. "ZOMG Maria I totally agree with you! Red is such a great color for Max, don't you think? It's so awesome that our school soccer jerseys are red, even though on the Downpour our jerseys are blue and white and Max might be joining that team too, but she'll still wear red for our school games of course and I'm sure she'll look just as hot in blue and white too! ZOMG I'm so excited for that! Let's swim now though- Angel and Maria, I'll race you guys to the other end!" And with that, Nudge leaped into the pool and left me standing alone with Fang.

"So," I said weakly, trying to pull myself together. "What's cracking?"

Fang rolled his eyes, thankfully reducing the heat of his gaze so I wasn't burned alive. "My sanity," he replied cryptically.

"How so?" I asked, slightly confused by the strange comment.

Fang just looked at me.

"All right then, subject change," I joked feebly. "This is really awkward."

"Agreed." Fang nodded in acknowledgement, his eyes still locked on mine.

"Can you think of a tension breaker?" I asked. Privately, I felt that this was a rather one-sided conversation. Fang needed a course of Talking With Others 101. Direly.

Fang smiled suddenly, effectively freezing me in place as I stared at the phenomenon. He took advantage of my momentary petrification to haul me over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. A scream escaped my lips before I ould stop it, shrilly piercing the air before being abruptly silenced by the water enveloping my head. My dear bestie had jumped into the water with me slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

Fang is such a gentleman.

I kicked wildly at him, pounding his back with my fists and squirming in an attempt to break free of his hold. Fang didn't budge though, and kept us below the water for several long seconds before heading upward once more.

I gasped for air as soon as my head broke the surface, desperately sucking in lungfuls of oxygen. Fang popped up beside me, his hair plastered flat to his head and grinning at me like a fool.

"Die!" I rasped, shoving him away from me.

Fang actually laughed, and I was momentarily distracted by the sound before resuming my intentions of drowning him. I pushed his head down under the water, but he easily maneuvered away from me and swam to the edge of the pool. Grudgingly, I followed him, still coughing on water as I did so.

"What the hell was that for anyway?" I demanded, glaring at him. My black eye was stinging slightly from the chlorine, but I did my best to igmore it.

Fang shrugged. "You asked for a tension breaker. There you go," he explained easily. I could see that he was struggling to keep a straight face.

"I hate your idea of a tension breaker," I grumbled, trying desperately to casually adjust the bikini top. It was a stupid halter, and was starting to ride dangerously low as a result of our merry plunge into the pool. I had no intention of dying from mortification today, therefore I was doing my best to tighten the ties around my neck.

Luckily, Fang appeared not to notice my swimsuit malfunction, as he was preoccupied with watching Maria swim about with Angel. "They're good little swimmers, so we don't have to breathe down their necks," Fang remarked. "Especially Angel. She's always been an amazing swimmer, since she was literally two years old. We used to joke that she had gills."

"I wish I could swim that well," I sighed. "But I'm only a good swimmer when I'm prepared. So if someone throws me into a pool I'm a drowning elephant."

Fang smirked, turning to look back at me. "Poor Max. Do you want me to carry you?" he teased.

"That;s what started this whole thing in the first place," I pointed out. "You grabbed me and leaped into the pool like a lunatic."

"Well technically, that was your fault," Fang argued. "You asked for a diversion, I supplied you with one."

"Ohh, I know a diversion that Max and the little girls would love to play!" Nudge squealed, magically popping up beside me. I jumped, causing me to practically fly into Fang, my nose hitting his collar bone with a painful smack. His arms curled around me almost reflexively, and I was suddenly hyper aware of all of the places we were colliding. The bikini Nudge had forced on me meant that practically everywhere we touched was bare skin. Only the water separated our bodies.

I hadn't even realized I was this close to him to begin with.

Fang actually started laughing, the sound vibrating through his chest and permeating throughout me. "Thanks for the hug," he told me, his arms tightening around my torso.

I felt my lips turn up in an almost involuntary grin. Fang had a gift for making potentially horrifyingly awkward situations funny, thank the lord. I threaded my own arms around him, hugging him back for a moment. "You're welcome Fang," I replied calmly, like hugging my bestie half-naked in a pool was something totally normal that I did everyday.

Which I can assure you, it is not.

Although, it was kind of nice…

Before I could stomp on that thought with a harsh metaphorical cleat, Fang had released me and was lounging casually against the edge of the pool. "You were saying, Nudge?" he asked airily, like our little –umm, I'll call it an interaction- was commonplace.

Nudge grinned widely at us, looking as if she had just won the lottery. "We are going to have a water gun/swimming pool war," she announced brightly. "Maria, Angel and I against you and Max!"

Fang seemed suddenly paler than normal. "That's unfair," he protested. "Angel and Maria water fighting together are like Max and Gazzy playing soccer together!"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that a compliment?" I asked skeptically.

Fang shook his head. "No, it's a fact. Maria and Angel can practically read each other's minds," he informed me. "It's creepy."

"Well, we can take them anyway," I decided. "That is, we can if we're using water noodles."

"Max, you don't understand," Fang tried to dissuade me.

Nudge looked ecstatic. "Great! Let's do this thing! All weapons are fair game! Starting… NOW!" she yelled, instantly diving underwater and swimming swiftly away from us.

"Max, you're an idiot," Fang muttered, backing slowly against the side of the pool.

I rolled my eyes. Fang was such a drama queen. "Come on, Fang! Show some spirit! It's us against two little girls and Nudge. How hard could this be?" I asked.

Fang just looked at me. "Yep. We're doomed," he predicted calmly.

That was when two six year old girls popped out of nowhere and gunned Fang and I straight in the faces.

**O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O**

"I never knew that water could hurt so much," I groaned, dragging myself onto a chair and flopping down face first. "Dear lord, I'm going to have so many bruises from your water guns that people will think my mother is abusive!"

Nudge giggled, high fiving Angel and Maria. The younger girls were perched on the ends of two other chairs, sipping glasses of lemonade out of fancifully twirly purple straws. They were basking in their overwhelming victory over Fang and I, breaking out into random giggle fits every ten seconds.

Here's a tip: if two adorable six year old girls with heart shaped goggles ever come up to you and offer to water fight, DO NOT AGREE. They will murder you. Painfully. Unmercifully. Shrieking with laughter all the way through.

Unfortunately I now know this from experience.

Fang was flopped on his back on the floor, his eyes closed and wet hair flopping over his eyes. The sun was hitting him in an impossibly perfect angle, as if it was purposely aimed to glorify Fang. I snorted by accident at this thought, causing Fang to open his eyes and stare at me questioningly.

By now it was about 8:00, and the picturesque sunlight was fading rapidly. Almost mid-dive, Maria abruptly stood up straight and announced, "I'm cold."

"Me too," Angel echoed. "Can we go inside now?"

I got up and helped Nudge herd the girls out of the pool. Fang was waiting by the edge, ready with towels to drape over their tiny shoulders. "Let's get you girls dried off," Nudge decided, leading them into the house. "Max, Fang, would you mind getting the yard cleaned up for me?" She gestured around at the mess of water guns, floaties, and balls that the girls had scattered about willy nilly.

"No problem," I told her, bending over and scooping up a tennis ball. "We'll be inside in five minutes."

"Great! Thanks you guys! I'll get the girls cleaned up," Nudge promised, disappearing inside. Fang silently bent down and plucked a vibrant pink noodle off the grass, tossing it into a trunk already half-filled with water toys. We worked quickly, silently, and the yard was pristine in no time. I threw the last water gun into the trunk, then straightened and looked over at Fang.

My gaze was immediately drawn to his stomach again. There was still that weird scratch on it, a dark zig zag across his abdomen. I walked over to where he was sitting down on a chair and sat beside him. "What's that?" I asked softly, poking his stomach right on the mark. Closer up, I could see that it wasn't just a scratch, but an old scar.

Fang grimaced when he saw what I was looking at. "War wound from 1776," he told me solemnly. "I took a knife to the stomach to save George Washington's life."

I smacked his bare shoulder, provoking a small grumble from him. "You weren't alive then, idiot," I reminded him. Fang smirked, but made no reply. "It's an acute angle," I realized, tracing the scar tissue almost subconsciously with one finger. Fang's stomach muscles tightened at my touch, but other that, that he didn't react.

"Math geek," he grunted at me. "Only you would notice the angle of my scar."

"Well, it is!" I insisted, grinning. "This angle is around forty-five to fifty degrees, if I'm correct." I traced the scar again, trying to ignore the fact that this closer view of Fang's stomach also showed the hard muscle of his abs.

Dear lord, Fang was ripped. How did a freshman manage to get a six pack?

I was so jealous. I wanted a six pack!

"Geek," Fang coughed, not so subtly, into his hand. I rolled my eyes and ignored him, choosing to study his scar further instead,

Fang's scar was certainly interesting. The first thin line horizontally crossed his entire stomach just above his hips, connecting at an acute vertice with another, shorter line. The second line went upwards across his stomach at about a forty five degree angle from the first, and halted just before his navel. The scar tissue was stark against his olive skin, and it was clearly an old wound. "How did you get this?" I asked again, tracing the scar. "It really is unusual."

Fang's eyes darkened, and he gently pushed my hand away from the scar. "It's no big deal, Max," he murmured, picking his shirt up off the chair and starting to pull it over his head.

I felt like it was a big deal, though. Not many teenagers have huge scars across their stomachs nowadays. Even though I could sense that it was a sore subject for Fang, I pushed further, praying that he wouldn't close up. "I want to know," I persisted, grabbing the hem of his shirt to prevent him from pulling it down. "Please?"

Then, something flashed in his eyes, and Fang looked away. He slowly started fitting hi arms throught the sleeves of his shirt. "No Max," he said softly, fumbling to pull the shirt down over his torso.

Fang was never clumsy.

I watched as he stood up, literally feeling him close off. I could sense his shell retracting around him. Fang wasn't going to tell me about the scar today, that was for sure. I felt a bit disappointed, but I could understand where he was coming from. Some stories were hard to share. I opened my mouth intending to tell him that. "Fang, I-"

And that was when my top fell down.

I screamed on instinct, instantly springing my arms around myself to cover my chest. Fang, of course, snapped his head up and stared urgently at me, obviously wondering why I had screamed. "Don't look!" I shrieked, kicking him in the shin while simultaneously bending my knees up to help cover my chest.

Fang instantly looked skyward, his face becoming curiously blank as he did so. "This is very awkward," he remarked, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Fang was the epitome of calm, even in this horribly nightmarish scenario.

I, on the other hand, was not calm in the least. The stupid flimsy halter ties of the bikini top had slipped out of the knot Nudge had tied, causing the top to fall completely forward from my body. While Fang appeared to simply be thoughtfully stargazing, I was scrambling to pull the top up and cover myself at the same time. "I hate bikinis," I growled, fumbling uselessly at the strings. "I can't tie the stupid halter back on!"

"Are you covered up?" Fang asked, his voice somehow soothingly emotionless.

"Yes," I replied shortly, feeling my cheeks redden with that awful blush Fang was so talented in bringing out of me.

Without another word, Fang moved closer and took the halter ties in both hands. Carefully, he pulled the strings tight and knotted them firmly around my neck. His hands lingered on the back of my neck for a moment, their warmth on my cold skin making me shiver slightly.

"Thank you," I murmured, feeling shy and awkward again.

Fang grinned suddenly, dazzling me yet again. "Anything to help a damsel in distress," he teased, bowing dramatically.

I grinned back, a bit surprised by this sudden open display. "Whatever, Sir Fangsalot," I retorted. Standing up, I pulled at the strings of the bikini again, making sure they were secure around my neck before walking towards the house. "Come on, Sir Knight, the ladies will be wondering what's taking so long."

Fang followed me back into the house. "We're done," he announced as we entered the kitchen. Nudge, Tanya, Angel and Maria were all sitting at the table. Nudge had changed clothes and had also dressed Angel and Maria in matching blue bird pajamas. The younger girls were happily cheeping to each other, and I could only guess that since they were wearing bird pajamas, they assumed that they too were birds.

The six year old mind is a fascinating place.

"What took you so long?" Nudge asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly at us. "It doesn't usually take that long to clean up the yard."

"Maria and Angel made quite a mess," Fang replied. I mentally sighed in relief, thankful that he wasn't going to spill about my top falling off. That was quite mortifying, and I didn't need two six year olds, Tanya, and Nudge laughing at my predicament.

"Should we take the girls back to Angel's house?" I asked looking at the yawning duo. "They look pooped."

"That's probably a good idea," Nudge agreed.

"Max said poop!" Maria whispered to Angel, giggling wildly.

Angel laughed, grinning back at Maria. "Poop!" she cheered. "Max should get soap in her mouth!"

"That won't be necessary," I cut them off quickly before they got too enthusiastic about the idea. "Come on ladies, let's hit the road!"

"Umm, Max?" Fang interjected. I looked at him expectantly, mid step towards the door. "Are you going to go around in that?" He pointed at me skeptically.

I looked down, and realized that I was still wearing the cursed bikini. "Oh yeah, whoops. I'll get changed, be right back!" I decided, rushing out of the kitchen and upstairs to Nudge's room.

Once I was fully dressed in my own clothes, we collected our giggling charges and marched them down the road. I t was already dark, but we figured we were safe enough, seeing as Fang was very intimidating at first sight alone, and that I could take out a guy like Ford without very much trouble at all. Plus, it wasn't like our neighborhood was a dangerous place anyway.

Once we reached the Richards' house, Angela and Maria ran directly inside and disappeared around a corner. Nudge and I left Fang in the front hall locking the door again and went to find where the girls had scurried off to.

They hadn't gone far. Angel and Maria were in the living room, snuggled under a blanket in the middle of a large leather couch. They were sitting facing a large television, and both turned to look at Nudge and I as we walked in. "Movie time!" Maria declared, waving a DVD case at us.

"How to Train Your Dragon!" Angel explained knowledgeably, pointing to the movie clutched in Maria's hand. "This is our favorite movie ever!"

"Okay then," I replied, taking the DVD from Maria. "We can watch a movie then."

Fang came in while I was fiddling with the DVD player. I didn't hear him at all, and almost punched him in the face when I turned around and found him directly behind me. "Fang!" I complained, pushing him out of my personal bubble.

Fang smirked, ignoring m whining. "Are we watching How to Train Your Dragon again?" he asked, peering at the TV screen.

"Yep," I confirmed. "I've seen it about eight times with Ella and my cousins."

"Same here," Fang said, picking up the remote and fast forwarding through the previews. "Maria and Angel love it."

"Hey, since you guys have seen it so many times and I haven't seen it at all, I nominate you two to make the food while the ladies and I watch the beginning!" Nudge declared. "Shoo! Go make us food, for we are hungering!"

"Yeah! Make popcorn! With lots of butter!" Angel added, pointing at us imperiously.

"I want hot chocolate!" Maria chirped.

"Food, hot chocolate and popcorn coming right up," I replied, following Fang out of the room. He obviously knew where he was going in the house, and we quickly ended up in a blue painted kitchen. Fang started rummaging around in cabinets, producing the materials necessary for our mission.

"I'm going to be kinda useless here," I admitted. "Ella has always said that I could find a way to make boiling water poisonous when I'm cooking."

Fang smiled slightly, not pausing as he set a popcorn maker and a tea kettle on the stove. "Just kick back and relax, Princess Max," he teased. "Luckily for you, I can cook."

I rolled my eyes, hopping up onto one of the counters and parking my butt. "I'll just sit here and watch then," I drawled, following Fang with my eyes as he moved confidently around the kitchen.

In almost no time at all, Fang had whipped up five mugs of steaming hot chocolate, heated a pizza, and filled a huge bowl with popcorn. He grinned at me, bowing deeply as I applauded his cooking skillage. "I am impressed," I remarked. "Cooking isn't a talent I expected out of you, Fangles."

Fang smirked. "I'm full of surprises," he replied mysteriously. Fang picked up two of the mugs and headed back towards the living room. "Now help me carry these."

It took us two trips to get all of the food to the living room, where Nudge, Angel, and Maria were cooing over the dragon Toothless on the screen. "He's so adorable!" Angel squealed, smiling lovingly at the screen. "I want him as a pet!"

Fang and I settled down nest to Angel and propped the popcorn bowl up in between her and Maria. I leaned back into the soft leather couch cushions and relaxed with my pizza and cocoa, trying to enjoy the movie.

However, I kept getting distracted from the Vikings by my dearest bestie. Fang's presence beside me was strong and comforting, and his leg pressed against mine was warm and solid. My eyes kept getting dragged away from the characters on the screen and to Fang's face instead. I felt strangely safe, sitting next to him here. Nothing could hurt me when I was with Fang.

I tried to snap myself out of that thought, slightly panicked. I couldn't trust anyone, not even Fang, with my heart anymore. Sam had taught me that. And as painful as that lesson had been, I now knew that I couldn't bare my heart again. It was too dangerous.

Then why was I suddenly wanting Fang to be holding me again, the way he had in my front yard a few nights ago?

I had to get out of here.

I stood up, setting my now empty mug on the coffee table. Everyone turned to look at me, their gazes inquisitive. "I need to… use the bathroom," I invented quickly, avoiding their eyes. I walked quickly out of the room, wandering in the hallway for a moment before I realized I didn't even know where the bathroom was in Gazzy's house.

I sighed, sliding down against the wall. I needed to get Fang off of my mind. I tried to refocus my thoughts.

Soccer. Soccer was good. Nudge wanted me to try out for the club team she, Sadie, and Liz played for- the Raine Valley Downpour. I had heard good things about the team, and I really did want to try out. Nudge told me she had talked to her coach about setting me up with a trial run. Raine Valley Soccer Club in general was a pretty esteemed club with a reputation for formidable teams. Gazzy and Fang both played for RVSC too-

I sighed again, putting my head in my hands. No matter what I tried to think of, my mind always circled back to Fang.

There's a reason for that, my mind whispered insistently. You're smart enough to figure it out, Max.

I shut out the little voice, shaking my head and standing up, I needed to get myself under control. "Contain your emotions, Max," I said aloud. "Nothing good will come out of them anyway."

I shook my head one more time, took a deep breath, and walked back into the living room.

**O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O**

"Thank you for babysitting Angel," Ariel told us, smiling at each of us in turn. "I know she can be a handful at times, but she loves you guys."

"Don't worry Ariel, we love her too," Nudge assured Angel's mom. "We're happy to babysit anytime!"

Ariel smiled again. "Here's your pay for tonight," she said, handing us each a white envelope. "Thank you again for taking such great care of Angel."

"It's no problem," Fang replied, offering Ariel a slight smile. I had to lower my eyes so I wouldn't stare at him.

The emotion-reigning situation was getting steadily worse, not better. I tried my best to ignore it, instead tucking my envelope away in the pocket of my sweatshirt. Fang was my best friend. Fang was my best friend. Fang was my best friend.

This mantra wasn't working very well.

I took a deep breath and shoved away the sudden strong emotion battering away at me. Where had all of this come from so quickly? I was perfectly fine with my relationship with Fang yesterday… was this because of the hug in the pool? Or the bikini top incident? Or was it just pent up from everything so far? I bit my lip, trying to shoo away these meddlesome thoughts.

Nudge, Maria, Fang and I had set out from the Richards house together, but now Nudge's house was in front of us. She hugged each of us tightly before running up to the front door of her house. "Good night Maria! See you on Monday, Fang!" she called. "Max, my coach might want to have you try out for the Downpour this weekend. I'll keep you posted, okay?"

"Sounds great. Thanks Nudge!" I called back. Nudge smiled brightly one more time before disappearing back into her house.

Fang and Maria kept walking down the road. I hurried to catch up to them, then slowed to fall into pace with Fang, matching each of my steps with his. Maria skipped along beside us in her bluebird pajamas, seeming both tired yet still unerringly cheerful. The three of us walked in a comfortable silence all the way back to Fang and Maria's house. Once we were there, Maria hugged me around the legs, chirped, "Good night Max! I love you!" and ran into the house.

Fang paused in his front yard, turning to look at me. "Did you have fun with the girls tonight? He queried, smiling softly after Maria.

I nodded, managing what I hoped looked like a casual grin. "They're sweet," I replied.

Fang looked skeptical. "Even if they're bombarding you with water guns and noodles and all things pool-related?" he asked dubiously.

I laughed. "Okay, maybe 'sweet' is a bad word choice," I admitted. "But still, they're good kids."

"They are," Fang agreed. We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, simply studying each other. My mind came boomeranging back to the strange zig-zagging scar on Fang's stomach. Where could he have possibly gotten that from? I knew it wasn't just a normal accident, or he wouldn't be so edgy about it. The scar was something important, that I was sure of.

Suddenly, Fang stepped forward and took my face gently in his hands. My chin was pulled upwards, my eyes forced by some gravitational pull to lok into his. Fang's eyes were like dark, reflective chasms. I couldn't see the bottoms of them- only my own face mirrored back at me. "How's this feeling?" he asked, his voice a normal volume like it was a perfectly acceptable and casual thing for him to be mere inches away from each other while we spoke.

Vaguely, I realized that Fang was talking about my black eye. "It's fine," I said, only half-lying. "Jose definitely didn't help it, but it's getting better."

Fang's eyes flashed with anger at the mention of Jose, his hands tightening on my chin. "Jose was a jerk," he growled.

"And a sexist pig," I offered, glad to see him crack a smile at my enthusiastic addition. "But you dealt with him. No worries."

Fang didn't look so sure, but he didn't object verbally. "What about Max II? Has he been bothering you again?" he asked.

I thought about my last meeting with Max II. I hadn't exactly gone over well, but I certainly was not going to tell my overprotective bestie that. He'd probably murder Max II and get arrested. "I'm fine," I repeated. "I can take care of myself, Fang."

Fang suddenly grinned ruefully, letting go of my face and stuffing his hands in his pockets like he didn't know what to do with them. "I know," he admitted. "I just want to help. You're too special to be hurt for stupid reasons, Max."

Warmth flooded my stomach at his words, but I tried to ignore it. "Awwwm" I cooed teasingly. "How sweet of you."

Fang smirked, but didn't reply. We lapsed back into silence, and I suddenly realized how close we were standing. For the past few minutes we had been talking, we had slowly moved closer to each other and I hadn't even noticed. Fang's presence so near to me seemed natural somehow. There was nothing strange about him being so close. Fang's smirk lifted suddenly into a smile, the real kind that I loved to see so much.

I blame that smile for everything- because that's when I screwed up.

My short-circuited brain seemed to take a life of its own for a moment, making me feel as if I wasn't the one directing my body.

After all, if I were in control of myself, I certainly would not have stepped forward, pulled Fang's head down, and kissed him full on the mouth.

My brain seemed to short out even more during the kiss. Fang's lips were slightly chapped, but still soft and warm against mine. The feeling of them colliding with mine was enough o dump a truckload of warm butterflies into my stomach. Fang stood there like a brick wall, obviously shell shocked by my pure stupidity.

Oh crap. I was an idiot.

As soon as I realized what exactly I was doing, I tore away from Fang, gasping fro breath and feeling like I was on the highest adrenaline rush of my life. "Oh…" I breathed, staring wide-eyed at Fang, who was gawking right back at me. "Crap!" I yelled, my suddenly loud voice disrupting the silence. I couldn't look at Fang any more. Whirling around on my heel, I started sprinting down the street.

"Max!" I heard Fang yell after me. The sound of his feet on the pavement running after me filled my ears along with the blood rushing through them. "Max, wait!"

I didn't turn around though, or even break stride as I poured all of my legendary speed into running away.

Because that's what I do best.

Run away.

**HEHEHEHEHE…**

**I wanted Max to kiss Fang first. If anyone's noticed, I try to follow the books as closely as possible, and Max kisses Fang first in the series. So yeah…**

**I know you've all been waiting for this, because you've been reviewing for it for the past twenty six chapters! Review again and tell me what you think!**

**I hope you guys appreciate this, btw. Two hours and 8,904 words of straight typing to get this done. I'm bound to get Carpal tunnels! XD So I would appreciate some love for my effort. =P**

**~TMI~**


	29. Running Away Just Doesn't Cut It

**DEDICATED TO: TaraXx and Sierra156! Your reviews were awesome! =D Thank you so much!**

**Hi again! I cannot believe I have over 700 reviews on this. Cannot. Believe. I used to think that 45 for my 15-chapter story was a lot… And frankly, this story was kind of an accident- I wrote out a chapter for fun, figuring I wouldn't actually post it, but then I had the idea to turn it into a soccer fic, and BOOM! School Days. XD**

**(If anyone hasn't caught on yet, I'm hooked on anything that has to do with soccer.)**

**Someone (I think lilianneherondale?) commented on my vocabulary being lengthy for a thirteen year old. =D I actually pride myself on that. Tee hee! That's what comes from reading a lot.**

**And I discovered that Croif is actually spelled Cruyff. Whoops. Well, croif is easier to read/sound out… XD**

For a few moments, it was pure bliss. Max's arms around my neck, her lips pressed to mine, the warmth of her body so close to me- it was everything I could have ever imagined and more. Perfection.

I stood completely still, praying that this was real and that I wasn't dreaming yet again, only to wake up to harsh reality. I dug my nails deep into my palms, the sharp pain causing me to flinch a little. That would definitely have woken me up from a dream, yet Max was still here. It was real. It was actually real. An army of fireworks lit up in my stomach, flooding me with warmth from head to toe. Max was kissing me.

Dear lord, Max was kissing me!

Just as I was about to wrap my arms around her, Max turned her head and broke away. She stepped back, staring at me like a frightened deer. I could only stare back, still struck by what had just happened. "Oh…" Max gasped the word sending shivers up my arms and down my back. At that moment, there was nothing I wanted more in the world than to just step forward and kiss her agai-

"Crap!" Max yelled, startling me out of my thoughts. She spun around on her heel, her ponytatil whipping sharply in my face as she did so. I blinked for a second, utterly confused, before I realized that Max was running away.

"Max!" The word was ripped from my throat almost involuntarily. "Max, wait!" I screamed, suddenly snapping to alertness. Max was sprinting now, and I was running after her. She was yards ahead of me though, and the distance was growing rapidly. Max had gotten a good head start on me in the first place, and I already knew that I couldn't' keep up with her when she was going full bore. Which obviously, she was doing right now.

Was I really that repulsive? 

I slowed to a halt, watching helplessly as Max continued to run away. She didn't look back. Not once.

Within seconds Max had whipped around the street corner, almost blurring with speed. There was no way I could ever catch up to her, not when she wanted to escape so badly. Max was the fastest girl in the ninth grade, and probably the fastest girl in the entire school.

I considered taking a shortcut to her house and heading her off there, but decided against it. My brain was still fried, and I didn't know what I wanted to say to her anyway.

Numbly, I stopped running, and turned around to retreat back to my own house. My thoughts swirled like a hurricane in my head, bumping drunkenly into each other and careening uselessly about. Nothing made sense to me.

Max had kissed me. She had kissed me, and promptly sprinted away.

I'll admit that I had had more than enough daydreams about finally digging up the guts to tell Max that I liked her as more than just a bestie. I will also freely admit that every single one of those daydreams involved a long, dramatic kiss after my confession. Several of the more pessimistic ones even predicted Max running away afterward. However, never once in those daydreams had I thought that Max would kiss me first, nor did I think that I would be so stunned by it that I wouldn't be able to respond at all.

I was so stupid!

I sighed heavily, trudging up the path to my front door. As I stepped inside, my mom called out from somewhere near the kitchen. "Fang! Is that you?" she asked, her voice echoing in the empty house.

"Yeah," I replied quietly, heading directly up the stairs.

Mom appeared in the entry hall below me, looking up curiously. "Are you okay, Fang? You sound a bit… subdued." She looked at me worriedly, searching my face for signs of distress.

I laughed, somewhat sardonically. "Subdued is too weak of a word for it," I muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing Mom," I said, louder this time. "I'm going to bed." I continued up the stairs, trying to sound normal, like I did every time I came home from babysitting Angel.

Mom didn't seem convinced. "Hmm," was her only comment. "Good night, dear."

"Night, Mom."

On my way to my room, I caught a glimpse of Maria already snuggled into her bed. Her curls were spread willy nilly across her pillow, and her hands were fisted in the blankets surrounding her. I smiled at the sight, realizing she must have crashed the second she stepped into bed. It was a wonder of the six year old being to be have the ability to fall asleep in less than ten seconds.

Thirty minutes later found me wishing I too possessed that talent.

I went about with my normal nightly routine: shower, brush teeth, get dressed for bed. It was simply a miracle that I had finished all of my homework before soccer practice today, because there was no way I could have managed to focus on algebraic equations or historical dates tonight or any night this weekend. Not when my best friend, whom I happened to be already in love with anyway, had just kissed me without warning and ran away directly after.

What was I supposed to say to Max now? Should I confront her about it and see what she had to say? Or should I just act normally and pretend the whole thing hadn't ever happened.

But my problem was, it had happened. It had definitely happened. And it was a better kiss than any I'd ever experienced before. It wasn't better because of technique or skill or even the fact that Max was the first girl I had ever kissed who was tall enough so I didn't have to bend in half to be on her level. It was better because I really loved her.

I lay in bed for a long time simply staring up at the blank ceiling, wondering if it could somehow miraculously answer all of my problems. Only one thought kept replaying in my head as the minutes ticked by.

Max kissed me.

I turned over on my side, staring out the window instead of at the ceiling. The streetlights were on, and I could see orbs of orange glowing through the night all the way down the road to the corner. The same corner Max had raced down to get away from me. I closed my eyes, still seeing the scene. Max running, me chasing, always several feet behind her and rapidly losing ground. My heart twanged a bit at the memory.

"Get a grip. Fang," I growled to myself, sitting up and slapping myself hard across the face. The stinging snapped me out of my mournful stupor, and I shook my head a few times for good measure. The last thing I needed was to actually become emo from this whole event, especially considering all of the 'you're so emo!' jabs I received already concerning my hair and choice of clothing. Max obviously thought the kiss was a mistake. I should forget about it, keep acting as if nothing had happened.

But could I? Now that I knew how it felt when she had grabbed my shoulders and kissed me senseless?

Obviously not. Duh.

I would need to confront Max about it, whether or not she tried to avoid me, even if she never wanted to see me again. What had caused her to kiss me in the first place? I needed to know.

With that thought in mind, I lay back down and closed my eyes. Tomorrow was Saturday, so we didn't have school or soccer together, but I could walk over to her house and corner her there. Yes, that's exactly what I should do. I took a deep breath in, and slowly released it. All I had to do was ask Max why she had pulled a kiss-and-run on me. No big deal, right?

Wrong.

**O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O**

**MPOV**

I woke up to the sun shining in my eyes. Mumbling incoherently I rolled over and attempted to fall back asleep. My eyes drifted shut, and I slipped back into a doze.

"MAAAAAAX!"

I sat bolt upright, my heart pounding as all of my muscles tensed up from the sound of my sister screaming my name. My body was on high alert, and my mind was racing. What had happened? Had Mom fallen down in the shower and broken her legs? Was the house burning down? I could smell smoke!

"Oh my God, the house is burning down!" I screamed, leaping out of bed. Or I should say, attempting to leap out of bed. My legs got tangled in the sheets halfway out, and I landed painfully on my elbows on the floor instead. "OW! Dear lord, the house is burning down and I'm stuck in bed!" I shrieked, writhing in my sheets on the floor.

"Max?" Mom poked her head around the corner of my doorway, giving me a strange, inquisitive look as she took in my position splayed on the floor. "What on earth are you yelling about?"

I looked weakly up at her. "Why aren't you evacuating?" I asked, nursing my bruised elbows as I sat up.

Mom furrowed her eyebrows. "Evacuating? What for?" She sounded very confused.

"The house is burning down, Mom! Can't you smell the smoke? And Ella screamed my name!" I protested, struggling out of my sheets and scrambling to my feet. "We need to get out of here!"

Mom smiled at me. "Max, there's no fire," she assured me. "The smoke you're smelling is the product of Ella's straightener overheating and burning both her hair and the rubber handle grip. She screamed for you to come help her, but you were peacefully comatose in bed, so I came to her rescue instead," she explained, sounding amused.

I flopped back down onto my bed. "Oh. Whoops," I murmured sheepishly.

Mom laughed, ducking back out of sight. I could hear her high heels clicking on the wooden floor as she walked away. "And you and Ella are coming with me to work today, Max!" she called. "It's a surprise!"

I rolled my eyes. What could be so surprising about going to Mom's veterinary office? I lolled back onto my pillows, gazing up at the ceiling. I had the oddest feeling I was forgetting something hugely monumental and important, but at the present I didn't particularly care.

Ella chose this time to come running into my room, the ends of her hair blackened and smoking and the expression on her face absolutely priceless. "Max!" she wailed." The straightener ate my hair!"

I raised an eyebrow at her, trying in vain to keep a straight face. "Ella, you probably just kept it in your hair too long while you were daydreaming about Iggy," I said knowingly, tapping my temple.

Ella blushed, instantly proving my point. "Maybe," she hedged, which of course obviously meant yes in Ellish.

"So how did your date go?" I prodded, smiling suggestively at my sister dearest. "Where did he take you? Was he polite? Do I need to kick his skinny white ass? Because I probably could take him on in history and Ms. Hell wouldn't notice."

Ella waved me off, laughing at my enthusiasm. "No, you most certainly do not need to kick Iggy's ass," she replied. "He was super sweet and a perfect gentleman, and I could tell he was nervous even though he was being all suave, which was even cuter! He took me out for burgers and ice cream, and then we saw Tower Heist, which was freaking hilarious!"

I looked at her questioningly. "Iggy took you to see a movie even though he's blind and can't physically watch the movie himself?" I asked.

Ella nodded. "Yeah, but he apparently heard at school that I was dying to see it, which I was, and he's super good at piecing everything together just by sound, and I explained anything he didn't catch. It was awesome. When he brought me home he kissed me goodnight!" she said dreamily, her eyes glazed as she remembered the moment. "It was perfect." We sat there quietly for a minute, Ella obviously reliving her date and me waiting for her to continue. "Oh," she said abruptly, breaking the silence. "Nudge told me she was going to ask you to babysit with her and Fang last night. How did that go?"

My stomach suddenly condensed into a block of ice, freezing my mind and my voice along with my entire body. Numbly, I could feel my eyes widen and my mouth drop open, even though I had no conscious decision in the actions.

Oh my God- _Fang._

Ella looked at me worriedly. "Max, are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost," she said worriedly, carefully inspecting my face.

With a great amount of effort, I managed to summon my voice back into action. "Oh, nothing," I said, too brightly, as the recollection of last night swirled in my head. "We had fun- played in Nudge's pool and watched a movie. The girls were angels. Well, Maria was Maria and Angel was Angel," I babbled, laughing nervously.

"Max, what happened?" Ella demanded, her no nonsense tone snapping me back to reality. "You're hiding something. What is it?"

I gulped nervously, internally chastising myself for being such an idiot last night. What on earth had made me kiss my best friend? "Umm…" I hedged, reluctant to repeat my stupid actions aloud.

"Max, you need to get ready to go!" Mom called up the stairs, her interruption saving me from answering Ella. "Ells, I need you downstairs now!"

Ella stood up, giving me one last, lingering suspicious look as she headed back out of my room. "You're going to tell me later, Max," she warned me.

"I have no doubt that you'll weasel it out of me," I agreed resignedly. As soon as she was gone, I mutely stood up and starting pulling on a pair of running shorts. "Now all I need to find out," I murmured to myself as I adjusted the waist, "is how to acquire some memory wiping equipment and use it on Fang."

Against my will, I started remembering his lips on mine, soft and warm and so… Fang. It had certainly beaten out any kiss I had ever shared with Sam, even it was only one sided. I shivered thinking about how amazing the kiss would've been if Fang had actually responded.

But he hadn't, and that was the end, I reminded myself sharply. The best case scenario for me would be if Fang just never mentioned it. I would stifle those stupid emotions that pestered me when I was around Fang, or die trying. There was no other solution to this problem I had gotten myself into besides avoiding Fang altogether, which would be both suspicious and miserable.

"Max! Are you ready yet?" Mom called.

"Gimme a sec!" I yelled back, springing off my bed where I had been reclining. I quickly pulled on a random tank top and sweatshirt and some socks, trapped my hair in a high ponytail, and clasped a plain silver necklace around my neck just for kicks. Done.

Without another thought, I grabbed my phone and ran out of the room.

Mom and Ella were lounging in the kitchen when I arrived, sneakers in hand. Ella had trimmed the burned ends off of her hair, shortening it by about two inches, and Mom was busy concocting her life juice (aka strong black coffee). While I put on my shoes, Ella proceeded to babble on about her date last night, Mom smiling and nodding along. I held my breath and tried not to think about boys in general, focusing on tying my shoelaces.

Within minutes we were in the car, heading for Mom's veterinary office. I was munching on a blueberry muffin, and Ella still managed to find new things to explain to us in very great detail about her date. These things included the color of Iggy's shirt, how the waitress gave her a thumbs up when she took their order, and how Ella realized halfway through the date that she was stupid to have spent thirty five minutes on her makeup when Iggy couldn't see it anyway.

I stared out the window, wishing that I could rewind time. I would have said no to the babysitting job in the first place, no matter how tempting the offer was. If I had never babysat, I wouldn't have kissed Fang, and I wouldn't keep getting bombarded by memories now. The remembrances of how Fang smiled lovingly at his sister, how strong and real he felt holding me in the pool, how he let me sit on the counter and did all the work by himself making dinner for us, and of course, the kiss monopolized my thoughts.

Dear lord, I had a one track mind today.

"We're here," Mom announced, pulling into a small gravel parking lot and killing the engine in a space marked 'RESERVED FOR DR. MARTINEZ'.

Ella and I followed Mom somewhat awkwardly up to the white building, glancing questioningly at each other. Neither of us had any idea why we were here. Mom rarely ever brought us to work with her, and it was even rarer when she didn't explain anything about why we had come at all.

"Sooo… why are we here again?" Ella asked, voicing my thoughts. I nodded in agreement, mentally shooing thoughts of Fang away. We had entered the lobby now, a small white room with tan swirls on the carpets and the odor of animals lurking around every corner of the furniture. It was obvious someone had attempted to mask the smell with an overpowering lavender scent, but they were fighting a losing battle there.

Mom smiled secretively at us. For a moment she didn't reply as she nodded at the receptionist and walked through the swinging door to the back rooms. We followed hesitantly, wondering where Mom was heading towards with this adventure. She plucked a white vet coat off of a hook and slipped it on before turning back to face us again. "Max, you know how you came home a few days ago steaming about how we don't have a dog even though I'm a veterinarian?"

Ella laughed, and I nodded sheepishly. That was the day Dylan had first come to school, and I had ben in a pissy mood. I distinctly remembered grumbling about my lack of dog-ness all day, and confronting my mom about it that night. She had laughed it off before, saying Ella and I were more work than a dozen dogs and that she didn't need another one to look after.

"Well," Mom said, breaking into my thoughts. Her eyes glittered with suspense. "Look at who we have here!" she pulled open a door with a flourish, unveiling a small, clean dog kennel complete with water, food, and dog.

I gaped at the dog. He was small and black, his fur sticking up at odd angles and his black eyes intelligent as they stared me down. He wagged his short tail slightly, stepping forward and leaning his front paws against the wiring at the front of the kennel.

"This," Mom announced, "is Total. Meet our newest addition to the clinic, girls."

Ella ran forward and dropped to her knees in front of the kennel, her mouth wide open and her eyes huge. The light of understanding was dawning slowly in her eyes, and she looked quickly back up at Mom. "Can we keep him?" she whispered, touching the pads of his front paws. Total grinned at her in an almost frighteningly human fashion.

Mom nodded, smiling at us.

"OMG _YES_!" Ella squealed, springing up and attacking Mom in a hug. "Thank you thank you thank you soooo much OMG I love him already!" Ella gushed, releasing Mom and falling instantly back to Total's level. "Did you hear that Total? Me and Max get to keep you!" Ella couldn't stop grinning- she reminded me of a five year old on Christmas morning, a little girl who had received a pony when she was expecting clothing. "OMG, he's a Scottie, right Mom? I love Scotties!"

Total barked in reply, which I took as a good sign.

"You can take him out and play with him," Mom suggested. "Max, you can open the kennel. I have to get to work now." And with one more smile, Mom walked out of the room, her white coat swirling behind her.

I stepped forward and knelt next to Ella, unlocking the kennel and opening the door. Total walked calmly out, peering first at Ella, who giggled and petted his head. Total cocked an ear at her, flashing another doggy grin. Then he stepped over to me, walking right up to my knees into my lap. I held out my hands palms up, and he placed his front paws in them and lifted himself to my eye level. I stared into his black eyes, and was instantly reminded of Fang again.

Of course, that shouldn't have surprised me. Everything reminded me of Fang today.

I sighed and dropped my hands. Total fell to all fours in my lap, licked my fingers, and trotted back over to Ella. "OMG I love him so much," Ella gushed, hugging Total gently as he panted over her shoulder. "I'm so glad you badgered Mom about getting a dog, Max! But where did Total come from anyway? Can we really just adopt him?"

I leaned forward, a plastic rectangle on the front of the kennel catching my attention. The tag held a picture of Total, grinning photogenically at the camera, along with a paragraph of information.

**Name: **_Total_

**Breed: **_Scottie mix_

**Trained or Untrained? **_Trained_

**Disposition: **_friendly- will not bite_

**Reason for Admittance: **_found stray on the street, abused and injured but not feral or dangerous._

_Up for Adoption!_

I smiled. "He's ours," I said quietly, looking up at Ella and Total. "Someone found him stray and brought him here, and he's up for adoption."

Total turned and looked at me, then grinned again, as if to say, "You got that right, honey."

So Ella had burned an inch of hair off of her head, I had nearly shattered both my knees and my elbows falling out of bed thinking the house was on fire, and I couldn't stop thinking about last night with Fang. But now I had an adorable dog.

Well, at least something went right today.

**O.o.O.o:O:o.O.o.O**

Mom had to work for the rest of the day, but apparently she had already filled out all of the necessary adoption forms yesterday, so she suggested Ella and I walk Total back to our house. It was about a ten mile 'walk' though, so Ella and I stashed Total in a backpack and took the bus.

Total's head poked comfortably out of the top of the nondescript white backpack. We had sat the backpack on the bus seat between Ella and I, and Total was quietly sitting inside the backpack. The bus driver hadn't noticed him with us, since I had slung the bag over my back and let my long hair shield Total's head from view. Even if he had spotted him though, Total appeared to be simply a stuffed animal.

Ella smiled happily to herself, stroking Total's silky ears and staring dreamily out the window. I knew that she was probably on cloud nine right now- she had Iggy as a boyfriend, her impromptu hair cut had actually turned out to look really good, and now she had a dog.

I, on the other hand, was stuck on cloud none. Moodily, I poked at the bruises forming on my knees, wondering if Fang would be the one to turn tail and run the next time we met.

I spent the rest of the bus ride trying to snap out of my self-pitying state of mind. I focused on Total instead, whose head was poking curiously out of the backpack and perkily examining his surroundings, a smile slid involuntarily onto my lips.

Maybe the world wasn't such a bad place. After all, there were dogs like Total in it.

When we got off at our stop, we were only a few blocks from our house. As soon as the bus rolled around a corner, Ella released Total from the backpack, clipping his leash to the silver collar we had already fastened around his neck. Total gazed around the neighborhood, his eyes bright with intelligence and his tail wagging. "Come on Total," I urged him, letting a grin take over my face. "Let's go!" I set off at a slow job, with Ella at my side and Total trotting energetically in front of us.

I couldn't stop myself from glancing at Fang's house as we passed it. The door was closed and the air quiet. It appeared that nobody was home.

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It would be exceedingly awkward to see Fang here now, especially with Ella here as a bystander.

Ella noticed my attention on Fang's house, and she nudged me playfully. "Looking to see if our boyfriend is home?" she teased, her eyes wide with faux innocence.

I snorted, speeding up slightly in my eagerness to leave the Rianild house behind. "Ells, Fang isn't my boyfriend," I murmured, trying to stop that god-awful blush from creeping onto my face. I managed to restrain it for once, and Ella seemed not to notice my forced nonchalance.

"Well, he should be," she huffed several minutes later, as we turned onto our own street. "You and Fang are meant to be. It's like a cliché fairy tale!"

I laughed weakly. "Right, Ells," I said quietly. "So, did Nudge already call to grill you for details about you date, or do I need to vacate the house for a few hours to preserve my ears from your squealing?" I asked, quickly changing the subject.

Ella instantly perked up at the mention of her date. "OMG no, she hasn't yet. She probably will soon though, knowing Nudge, although I told her yesterday that I would ask Mom if she could sleep over tonight. Did I tell you how at the movies Iggy…"

And then Ella's voice faded from my hearing. I halted, accidentally jerking Total's leash back as I did so. I could sense him looking up at me curiously, wondering why we had stopped so suddenly. However, my dog's confusion wasn't my main concern at the moment. I was more focused on the boy sitting at my doorstep, his black eyes locked on mine.

"Oh, hi Fang! What's up?" Ella chirped, unaware of the tension instantly rising between us.

"Nothing much Ells," Fang replied, not taking his eyes off of me. He stood up, walking slowly towards where we stood at the front of the driveway. "I just wanted to talk to Max."

Oh no. Dear lord, no.

My mind went blank, and all I could register was dropping Total's leash and bolting. As my feet pounded the pavement and Ella called surprisedly for me to come back, the only thing I could see was Fang's intense stare searing into me.

I had screwed up again. I wasn't supposed to fall in love.

I just kept running, never wondering where I was going. My feet somehow managed to direct me towards the park, the one where I had found Fang, Gazzy, and Iggy hiding in a bush weeks ago. I pushed the thought away, focusing on getting as far away as possible from Fang. He was the source of my problems. He was too sweet, too funny, too understanding- too _Fang._ He was too much for my heart to guard against. The wall had broken, and now I was terrified.

I found myself running along a deserted, overgrown trail in the park. It looked unused, possibly abandoned by the everyday passerby. That was fine with me. I didn't want anyone to find me until I managed to resurrect the wall around my feelings.

However, the downside of the trail being so conveniently abandoned was that plants overflowed onto the path and the footing was treacherous. This turned out to be my downfall, literally, when my foot caught on a dip in the path, launching me straight onto the elbows I had already bruised this morning in a similar dive. I groaned once, then rolled onto my side and closed my eyes, despite the uncomfortable ground underneath me. This scenario was far too much like the one I had encountered on the day I found Sam with Brigid. The scene: facedown on a running trail. My problem: a boy. My solution: run away. My heart: caving in.

I hadn't learned my lesson the first time, and now here I was repeating history.

_But Fang didn't hurt you like Sam did_, a small part of me ventured to say. _You hurt yourself this time, Max. You can't blame it on Fang. _

"Yes I can," I mumbled defiantly into the dirt. Great. Now I was emotionally and mentally screwed up. At least no one could find me in this embarrassingly weak state.

So of course, this being my life, this was the point where some random person had to come running up with their dog. _Perfect_. All I want is to be alone for five minutes, and some dude with his pet has to intrude on my pity session.

The dog ran up to me first, placing rough padded paws on my shoulder and licking my cheek. I reflexively opened my eyes and was startled to meet the pure black ones of my new pet. "Total," I murmured, my voice disgustingly weak. "Where's Ella?"

"At your house," another voice answered. I squeezed my eyes shut again at the sound of the answering voice, wishing that I could disappear.

"How did you find me?" I asked flatly, my voice a monotone. My heart quivered a bit, but I refused to open my eyes. _Maybe if I didn't see him, he wouldn't see me,_ a tiny, childish part of my mind suggested.

"Total ran after you when you split the scene," Fang replied, his tone as flat and emotionless as my own. "I don't know how, but your new puppy here can track you down without any problem."

"Good boy," I murmured, raising a hand to pet Total's head. My fingers came in contact with his silky soft ears, and Total licked my face again.

"Max, what happened last night?" Fang asked suddenly, his voice tinged slightly with desperation.

My fingers froze on Total's head. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said carefully, as composed as if I was drinking tea in a palace instead of lying facedown in the dirt.

"Damn it, Max! Yes you do!" Fang shouted, his sudden rise in volume startling me. I kept my eyes firmly shut though. If I looked at him, I would give in. That I knew for sure.

"No, I don't," I replied stubbornly.

There was silence. Then Fang stalked forward and knelt beside me, flipping me roughly over onto my back and jerking me up into a sitting position. I was about to yell in protest at this treatment when suddenly, there was a pair of lips on mine.

My thoughts stuttered, then slowed to a halt. I dimly felt Fang's arm encircle my back, pulling me into him as he cradled my head with his other hand.

Then his lips were gone, leaving my heart pounding and my mouth tingly. My eyes flew open in shock, and I stared at the familiar face so close to my own, whose own dark eyes were carefully studying my reaction.

I was once again struck speechless.

"_That _is what happened last night," Fang growled, his voice making me shiver. I could feel his breath rolling onto my lips, paralyzing any movement I may have attempted to make. Fang's expression softened slightly, and I could see the hurt hidden in his eyes. "But you ran away," he whispered. His tough façade rose up once more. "I'm not letting you do that again, Max. What happened?"

I could only stare at him for a moment. Then I began to struggle. "Let me go," I mumbled, trying to wriggle out of his grip. Fang's arms tightened around my back, pulling me into his hard chest and trapping my arms at my sides. My head was forced flat against his shoulder, and for a second I considered biting him. I dismissed the idea though, and tried to writhe out of his grip instead.

This plan turned out to suck, considering that Fang can be as immobile as a freaking boulder when he wants to be. After a few minutes of struggling, I fell limp against him. I was breathing hard from my exertion, but Fang was perfectly still, only intent on restraining me.

That's when the tears started to leak out. I tried to keep them back, but after a moment of valiant effort, a sob exploded from my mouth, and I started crying into Fang's shoulder.

His grip on me loosened, becoming less restraining and more comforting. "Max," he murmured into my ear, his lips just brushing the tip of it. "Max, what's wrong?"

"I can't get away," I mumbled,, closing my eyes as fat drops of liquid squeezed out of them. "There's nowhere to run anymore. Running away didn't work this time."

"From me?" Fang asked softly.

"From my heart," I corrected him, attempting to stifle another sob. "First with Sam, now with you."

Fang was silent for a moment before he spoke again. "Who's Sam?"

"My ex-boyfriend from Nevada," I said shortly. A harsh laugh escaped my chest, coupled with more tears streaming down my face. "He told me I was the only girl for him, and as soon as a new girl moved to town he was all over her. I hate both of them."

Fang shifted, and his hands were my back, slowing my tears. "So this Sam guy messed with your heart," Fang murmured, his voice quiet and soothing, "but what did I do?" I was silent, breathing in deeply as I tried to steady myself. I couldn't answer that question. "Max?"

"You made me love you," I whispered before I could stop myself. I held my breath, screwing my eyes shut as I waited for his reaction.

Fang went completely still, his fingers freezing on my back. "Ma-" he started.

I couldn't let him finish. "And I ruined everything," I blurted out, more tears sliding down my nose. I wanted nothing more than to get up and run away, but I couldn't find the strength nor the energy to do so. "I ruined our friendship," I continued, "and I let my stupid feelings get in the way, and now you probably hate me, and I have no idea why you're even here now-"

"Max," Fang interrupted, his voice calm and soft, but tinged with a hint of amusement. "You're babbling."

For a second, I managed to smile in spite of myself. "But it's true," I protested, the smile fading quickly. "I ruined everything. I kissed you."

Fang twisted slightly, so I was face to face with him again. "Max, I kissed you too," he reminded me, a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "I guess I ruined everything too then."

"Yeah, you probably did," I agreed sadly, my mind whirling back to the kiss for a moment.

Fang was quiet, his eyes roaming over my face and studying me. "Would you mind if I ruined it again?" he asked, his eyes utterly serious.

My breath caught in my throat as his lips neared mine. Fang gazed at me, waiting to see if I would disagree.

But there wouldn't be any point. I couldn't run away from Fang. He was the first one who had ever followed me when I tried to escape. I wouldn't be able to get away from Fang. He would always be following.

And then I realized that I didn't really want to.

"I wouldn't mind at all," I managed to breathe out, and then Fang was kissing me again.

And guess what? At the end, I didn't even run away.

**TEE HEE. **

**Sorry guys- my brain tends to go like this: soccer, fanfiction, soccer, candy, soccer, Ooh maybe I should write School Days, wait look that story looks good I'll read it for two hours, whoops forgot my math homework again, I should probably get to writing, wait no I have history to finish… **

**And so on and so forth. =P**

**AND JUST A NOTE: if you anonymously review asking when I'll update, I have no way of replying until I update again. -_-" so it's a tad pointless… XD**

**Review please! I made them kiss again, after all. XD**

**_ALSO VERY IMPORTANT PLEASE READ! _Fanfiction did that annoying thing where it made me retype the whole chapter on Word after already typing on my iPod, sooo I'm kind of annoyed about that… Any ideas why?**

**~TMI~**


	30. Nudge Stumbles On In

**DEDICATED TO: Sierra156 for her extremely fantastic hilariousity! And Amazing Grace for telling me how lines work (yeah I get it now! =D Thanks) And to LadyT123 for her AHMAYZING review! That's my special type of amazing that is reserved for stuff like this response to my complaint about fanfiction not letting me update- I quote:**

**"Its because Fanfiction is jealous of ur supah sexy writer skizzelz"**

**OMG I LAUGHED FOR SO LONG I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT.**

**Hehe, I just realized that I gave Ella two middle names. Whoops. Which do you guys like better- Louise or Cynthia?**

**Ooh, another Nudge chapter!**

**NPOV**

I smiled happily to myself as I jogged through the park, iPod plugged in and Taylor Swift blasting in my ears. Ella had promised me yesterday that I could come over for a sleepover tonight and she would dish the details on her date to me. Maybe we could prod Max about Fang some more, too. Those two really needed to get together, and by all of the power invested in me as a friend of both involved, I would get them together if it was the last thing I did.

Yesterday during babysitting I had been trying once again to get Fang to talk to Max about his feelings. Once again, he kept refusing, insisting she would hate him if she discovered how he really felt about her.

Well… he did have a fair point. Max herself kept denying how much she liked him, although I absolutely KNEW that she did. Ella had even told me that Max had broken down in tears once when Ella confronted her about it. It was obvious she had problems with acknowledging affection.

But I was sure I could help her bypass them.

Smiling to myself, I refreshed my determination and sped up my pace. I was feeling good today, slightly adventurous. I had a goal and I would complete it. Case closed.

I was about to continue on my normal running route when something strange caught my eye. I stopped right in the middle of the path and surveyed the scene, wondering what was different. All I had noticed was something weird, but I had failed to notice what that something even was.

Good going, Nudge.

Just when I was about to give up looking for the difference (I always did suck at ISpy) and just keep running when two other people came jogging up the main trail. The girl stopped just around where I was standing and started peering curiously off of the trail. "Hey Tim, it looks like someone went down the Hidden Path," she remarked to her companion. "And they weren't very careful about preserving the disguise."

Tim shook his head in wordless disapproval before simply continuing to run. The girl sped up and followed him, leaving me looking at the spot she had called 'Hidden Path'.

How mysterious.

Grinning slightly, I stepped off the trail in the direction the girl had been inspecting. Now that I knew what I was looking for, I could clearly make out a path scratched in among plants and shrubbery. What else could I do but follow the trail?

I turned off my iPod, bundling up my earbuds and sticking them in the pocket of my running shorts. Once they were safely stowed away, I set off carefully down the path, picking my way in the clear spots squashed down by the first trekker. They were still really fresh marks, and I could tell this person probably only had gone down it maybe ten minutes before.

The Hidden Path was really pretty, however unimaginative the name might have been. Lush greenery was everywhere: spreading luxuriously across the path, stretching between tree boughs, overflowing from the undergrowth- absolutely everywhere. It was like a winter wonderland, minus the winter and plus a ton of plants. So maybe it was just a wonderland.

I smiled to myself as I inhaled the fresh, clean scent of the trees. As I walked towards a bend in the path, I found myself impulsively closing my eyes to drink in the quiet atmosphere. Luckily, my feet somehow managed to carry me successfully further down the path without crashing into any trees. I couldn't make myself worry too much about that possibility though. It was just so peaceful here, with only nature and I. Smiling gently to myself, I opened my eyes.

Scratch that: Hidden Path had Nature and I, plus two teenagers making out in the middle of the path and a small black dog sitting on the side watching them.

I gasped, taking a step back and getting ready to apologize with all of the air in my lungs. Then I stopped. Neither of the pair had noticed my presence, and were still twined together. The girl was almost lying down in the boy's lap, her long, tanned legs spread straight across the trail. Her arms were looped possessively around the boy's shoulders, and the curtain of blondish brown hair running down her back and over her shoulders shielded her face from my view. I couldn't see the boy's face either, as it was angled away from me so he could kiss the girl better. The boy was kneeling beside the girl and bending over her, cradling her head and back and pulling her as close as possible to him. It was obvious that they had been kissing for quite awhile before I had stumbled upon the scene, and I could feel a blush rising to my cheeks at intruding.

In a way, the couple was really cute. But it was also somewhat kind of rather extremely nauseating to see them so fully intent on each other. I doubt that if I had run up and forcibly ripped them apart, they would have given a single glance in my direction. With this in mind, I took a silent step back, trying to soundlessly back out of this awkward situation. Maybe if I could just go back the other way…

"Max…" one of them murmured, their voice low and husky.

Wait a second. What the…?

I snapped my attention back to the couple, completely riveted all of a sudden. Was that who I think it was? How many Maxes live in Raine Valley anyway? And how many of those Maxes are female? Because it was the BOY who I had just heard breathing the name, not the girl, and this BOY'S voice also happened to sound very familiar!

OhmiGod, It all fit!

"ZOMG MAX FANG ZOMG ZOMG ZOMG!" I squealed at the top of my lungs, sprinting back towards them, unable to control my ecstasy. Max and Fang sprang out of their embrace and scooted to opposite sides of the path, both staring at me with wide, panicked eyes. It was as if I had caught them stealing cookies from my secret stash, only ten times more priceless. "ZOMG HOLY SCOTTISH FLAMING PAJAMA PANTS JUNIOR!"

"Scottish flaming whats?" Fang murmured questioningly.

Max was gaping at me, open-mouthed, and ignored his comment. "Nudge? Where did you come from?" she asked weakly, her voice sounding almost timid.

"ZOMG MAX! I was running and I saw this break in the path and this random girl came up and she was like, 'OMG, someone went down the Hidden Path!' and I was like oh sweet a hidden path that sounds cool! So then I went down it and I was admiring how pretty and green and fresh and clean everything was and then I turned a corner and bam! You were making out with Fang in the middle of the path! Are you two together now? ZOMG YES I'm so happy for you awwww didn't I always tell you you would be a beautiful couple? This just proves that you need to listen to me more often!" I practically screamed. This was so exciting!

Max looked like she wanted to sink into the ground. Fang, on the other hand, looked slightly amused. "Well, I do enjoy ruining things," he remarked, almost contemplatively.

"What? Ruining things?" I asked, momentarily distracted by the odd comment.

Max shot Fang a meaningful look, then turned to address me again. "Nudge, we aren't really going out," she informed me quietly.

Now it was my turn to gape at her. "What? Why not?" I demanded. "Then why were you snogging each other's faces off in a public park?"

"Snogging?" Fang murmured again, staring at me curiously. "Nudge, have you gone British on us?"

I chose not to answer this stupid question, and continued questioning Max instead. "Why aren't you going out? Tell me now!" I commanded. "Spit it out!"

Max was now looking as if she'd rather be at the doctor's office than here. "Well, he never asked me out," she muttered defiantly, staring at the ground.

Instantly, Fang had stood up and was across the path, glaring down at Max out of heated black eyes. "What?" he demanded. "Really, Max?"

Max turned her face up to glare straight back at him. "Really," she retorted. "You never asked me out, so we aren't a couple."

Fang sighed, touching his hand to his forehead in a defeated motion. "Damn, Max, do I really have to spell it out for you?" he asked, exasperated.

"I have no idea what 'it' you're talking about," Max replied pointedly.

Fang closed his eyes, probably in an attempt to calm his annoyance at Max's childish responses. I didn't blame him. After all, this was what I had dealt with for this whole month while trying to persuade Max she did indeed lurve Fang. Max could be incredibly annoying when she wanted to be- which was in fact quite a lot of the time- and was expert at pestering people until they gave in to her.

And she says I'm manipulative.

I watched the exchange between Max and Fang in great interest, forgotten on the side of the path as the two had a battle of wills. Max wasn't about to let Fang assume that since she had probably just given him the best kiss of his life and minutes before had been lying in his arms in the middle of a public park, she was automatically his girlfriend. Nope, he had to specifically ask her.

And Fang didn't want to. Knowing him, he probably thought it totally unnecessary.

But whatever Fang thought, he was going to have to bend to Max's will this time. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to get it. It didn't matter to her that Fang towered intimidatingly over her while she sat stubbornly on the ground, somehow fiercely pretty despite the tear tracks marking her cheeks, the miserable state of her ponytail, and the dirt spread liberally all over her sweatshirt, shorts, and legs.

Max's ability to look stunning in horribly disadvantageous situations could be highly annoying. However, right now it was working to my advantage. Fang couldn't stay mad at Max when she looked like that. Awww, that's so sweet! I almost squealed again, but managed to hold it in with a valiant effort. I didn't want to ruin the moment or anything, after all. It was better to be a silent spectator at the moment

Fang knelt down next to Max on the path, wiping some dirt off of her forehead as he did so. Max looked him clearly in the eyes, apparently over her bashfulness now that it was obvious she liked Fang as more than a bestie. "Max," Fang started, his lips quirking in a slight smile. "Will you go out with me even though I already said I love you which usually implies you want to date the person?"

HE TOLD HER HE LOVED HER? I could barely hold back my squealing this time. That was so adorable! A tiny 'eep!' of joy managed to escape my lips, but luckily neither lovebird noticed it, and the moment lived on. Phew.

Max laughed, the stubborn expression melting off her face in an instant at Fang's words. "Sure," she replied agreeably, grinning up at him and allowing him to help pull her to her feet. "See? Was that so hard to do?" Max teased.

Fang rolled his eyes. He touched one hand gently to Max's chin, smiling softly at her in a way that made me want to coo with happiness. "You're way too stubborn," he remarked conversationally.

"And you smell bad," Max replied airily. "But I put up with you anyway, so you have to deal with me."

Fang considered this for a moment, his expression thoughtfully serious. "I do not smell bad," he declared after a moment's pause. "I smell delightful."

Max snorted. "Sorry to insult your oh so manly odor," she murmured, grinning at Fang. "Do you want a band aid to put on the wound in your ego?"

Fang actually grinned, suddenly moving in closer to Max until their faces were less than two inches apart. "Can I have a kiss instead?" he asked innocently.

Max swallowed, then stepped back and shook her head. "Not from me," she replied somewhat shakily. "Go ask your mommy."

Fang snickered, and Max shoved him roughly off the path and into a tree. Fang grunted as he hit the tree, turning and scowling at his new girlfriend. "Jerk," he accused.

"Wimp," Max replied easily, smiling sweetly back at him.

"Idiot."

"Asshole."

"Enough with the endearing nicknames!" I cried, breaking up their ridiculous argument. "I'm still here, you know!"

Max gave me an exaggerated double take, a look of fake astonishment on her face. "What? Nudge, where did you come from?" she asked, purposely overly surprised. Fang smirked, looking between me and Max with great interest.

"Very funny Max. Don't forget that I could very easily describe in great detail the position I just found you and Fang in to Ella!" I threatened, smiling wickedly at the very thought.

Max paled instantly. "You wouldn't," she hissed.

"I would, and will," I promised.

Max went silent for a moment, internally fuming at me I'm sure. Fang had picked up the little black dog on the path and was standing there quietly like a good little boy, waiting for the females to battle it out.

He knows us too well.

"Let's just go," Max sighed. She began to attempt to brush the dirt off of her legs, but was fighting a losing battle there. It was fairly obvious that she would need a long shower to scrub off all of the earth plastered on her.

"How did you even do that?" I asked, somewhat incredulously. "You're so dirty, Max!"

Max shrugged, giving up on trying to clean herself up. "I fell," she replied unhelpfully. "Can we go now?"

I sighed, but led the way out of Hidden Path without any comment. "Where'd you get that dog, Fang? What happened to Lulu?" I asked, looking at the small animal in his arms. The dog grinned up at me, intelligence showing clearly in his glittering black eyes.

"He's Max's," Fang replied, gently ruffling the fur on the dog's neck with his free hand.

"I got him this morning," Max explained, smiling at the dog. "His name is Total- Mom let Ella and I adopt him from her clinic."

"He's adorable!" I exclaimed, reaching over and petting Total's head. His fur was soft, but wiry, and he squirmed in Fang's arms until he was in a good position to lick my fingers. I giggled, pulling back and wiping the dog drool on my jeans. "I want a dog. Does your mom have any extras, Max?"

Max laughed. "I don't know. You could ask her," she suggested. "Total's mine though, so don't try to steal him."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I declared. We walked in silence for a moment, listening to the crunch of our shoes on the dirt path. "So what do you two lovebirds want to do? Would you like me to leave?" I asked teasingly, stepping back onto the main trail. We set off back into the main park, me slightly ahead of Max and Fang.

Fang smirked. "Would you mind?" he deadpanned.

"Actually on second thought, I do mind. You're stuck with me," I informed them. "Hey, do you remember when we saw Kelsi and Jacki here and you guys had to pretend to be on a date so they would leave Fang alone and you guys played soccer instead of doing date-y things and we got mad at you? So now it's almost like a real date this time, except I'm here! ZOMG are you gonna tell everyone you're dating or are you gonna be all secretive and not say anything? I think it would be better if you told everyone because then girls would stop hitting on Fang all the time because Max is scary and they would be afraid that she would hurt them if they tried to flirt with him. Would you hurt someone if they did, Max? Ooh, what about when Lissa does? You know she will," I wondered aloud, honestly curious.

Max blinked at me (I tend to get this reaction a lot- people say I talk too much). She opened her mouth, glanced quickly at Fang, and closed it again.

"Yeah Max, what will you do when Lissa flirts with me?" Fang spoke up, suddenly grinning brightly.

Max scowled at him, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt. "I would give her a warning," she muttered, looking annoyed at the very thought of Lissa flirting with Fang. "A warning," she repeated, "in the form of my fist meeting her face."

Fang smiled, wrapping an arm around Max and pulling her to his side. "Can I watch?" he asked innocently.

"Go ahead," Max replied, provoking another laugh from him. She seemed perfectly content to be under his arm, a total difference from yesterday when she had shied away at his slightest touch.

I smiled at their banter. They were making a very smooth transition from friends to couple, much smoother than I had dared to hope for. I had figured that Max, being Max, would be exceedingly awkward at first with Fang as her boyfriend. After all, when Max II asked her out she avoided him all of the next day. I knew she thought nobody noticed her elusiveness with Max II, but I saw it. And I figured that Fang, being Fang, would have a hard time showing any emotion towards her no matter how much he wanted to.

Yet, here they were, perfectly natural in their new relationship. I had no idea how, but they were. It was unnatural.

It almost made me kind of…

Jealous.

I was happy for them of course, I was positively ecstatic that they were together. But to see them fitting so easily together, so obviously caring for each other… it unleashed a kind of longing in me, a wanting to be like that. Max kept telling me that Danny liked me, that he wanted to ask me out but just didn't know how. Somehow, I just couldn't believe it. It didn't seem real.

And that's when I saw him. Time crashed to a halt around me, making me stop stock still midstep.

Max bumped into me, but I didn't budge at all. I was rooted to the spot, my eyes glued to him.

He was gorgeous!

"Nudge? Are you all right?" Fang asked curiously, peering at me over my shoulder. He followed my gaze, and out of the corner of my eye I could see his expression harden. "Oh," he muttered disapprovingly.

I barely noticed. Who was that hawttie? More importantly, where could I get his phone number?

"What is it?" Max asked, trying to see what Fang and I were looking at. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," I murmured, my eyes still glued to The Hawttie. He was running one of the lesser used trails in the park, the same one I always ran in my usual route. Mentally, I cursed myself for not running it today and branching off to the Hidden Path instead. Maybe if I had stayed on track I might have bumped into The Hawttie, instead of crashing Max and Fang's little make out scene.

"It's him again," Fang said, holding Total in one arm and using the other to jerk a finger towards The Hawttie. He had paused now, and was wiping long blonde bangs off of his forehead with the back of his hand as he gazed around the trail. It seemed almost as if he was looking for something, or waiting for someone to appear.

Max looked where Fang was pointing, immediately spotting the hottie. She scowled, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "It's Dylan again," she groaned, looking vastly annoyed for some inexplicable reason. "Why does he keep popping up everywhere?"

I instantly whirled on Max, my attention torn from The Hawttie at the mention of that name. "You know him? His name is Dylan? Does he go to Cromwell? How come I've never seen him before and I've lived in Raine Valley my entire life but you just got here like a month and a half ago and you know him? That's so unfair!"

Max stared at me incredulously. "Nudge, this dude is a creeper. He won't leave me alone in classes no matter how rude I am," she told me, sounding annoyed at the very thought.

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe he's just patient with childish people, Max," I retorted. "And he's hawt. Very hawt."

"Is that h-o-t, or h-a-w-t?" Max muttered, possibly sarcastically.

"H-a-w-t," I murmured absentmindedly, my attention riveted on Dylan as he began to run again. "H-o-t doesn't do him enough justice."

Max looked disgusted, and continued walking down the path with Fang in tow. After a moment, Dylan Le Hawttie disappeared from my view, and I reluctantly followed Max and Fang once more.

I really wanted to talk to this Dylan guy.

"Hey Max, if you always see that guy at school, can you set me up? I want to actually meet him," I explained.

Max snorted. "Why do you want to meet Dylan?" she asked, sounding as if the name belonged to a deformed sea monkey instead of a glowing god of a teenage boy.

"'Cause he's hawt," I replied frankly. "Isn't that obvious?"

"What about Danny? I thought you liked him," Max protested, looking confused.

I shrugged. "Well, Danny obviously has no interest in me. Maybe I should move on," I reasoned, savoring the image of The Hawttie in my brain. Mmm…

"Don't move on to Dylan!" Max snapped.

I whirled on her, suddenly angry. "Why not? You already have Fang! It's not like you can stop me," I retorted.

Fang looked slightly alarmed, and attempted to step into the argument. "Max, Nudge, calm down," he tried to say.

"Shut up!" I snapped at him.

"Don't tell him to shut up!" Max growled.

"I can do whatever I want to! I'm done with you guys," I declared, glaring between Fang and Max.

Fang looked at me, worry surfacing on his face. "Nudge, are you okay? You aren't acting like yourself," he said slowly, dark eyes boring into me. I could sense Total's gaze on me too from his spot in Fang's arms- he was obviously wondering what the silly humans were arguing about.

"I'n fine! Geez, leave me alone already!" I exclaimed, turning on my heel and breaking into a run. I didn't look back at them once as I ditched the scene, leaving the park behind and running all the way back to my house.

The only thing on my mind was a certain blond boy. And no, it wasn't Danny.

Dylan…

* * *

"I can't believe her!" I stormed, pacing around Ella's room. It was six o' clock now, but I was still steaming about my argument with Max earlier. "She got all angry just 'cause I said I wanted to meet Dylan, and wouldn't hear anything about it. Max seems to think that I've pledged my eternal love to Danny or something, and by liking Dylan I'm betraying him. I'm so over Danny now." I ignored the tiny fluttering in my middle at the mention of Danny, instead focusing on the thrill I got when I thought about Dylan and his hawtness.

Ella lay sprawled across two bean bags, one pink and one orange. She watched me as I circled her room again and again, trying to burn off some of my annoyance. "So wait, when did you meet up with Max?" Ella spoke up finally, sounding slightly puzzled. She had sat there while I ranted for approximately fifteen minutes without a word crossing her lips, only a patient, listening sort of look on her face.

I suddenly turned on my heel and stared at Ella, instantly forgetting I was supposed to be angry at Max. "OMG I FOUND HER AND FANG MAKING OUT!" I shrieked, bouncing up and down and grinning wildly. "I'm so happppyyyyy!"

Ella shot up off of her bean bags, staring at me incredulously. "REALLY?" she squealed, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me for emphasis. "REALLY?"

"REALLY!" I confirmed, my head jolting back and forth on my neck from Ella's enthusiastic shaking.

We squealed in unison, dancing around Ella's room as we celebrated the fact of Max and Fang finally hooking up.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Ella and I froze and turned to face it. Max herself was standing there backpack slung over one shoulder and her expression confused as she gazed at us, caught mid-victory dance. "Umm," Max started, looking slightly alarmed. "What are you guys screaming about? I could hear you from outside."

In response, Ella and I squealed and rushed Max, tackling her in a massive double hug. "You and Fang! Fang and you! It's so cute I want to scream!" Ella shrieked.

Max winced at the volume of her sister's voice so close to her ear. "Umm… Ella? Calm down," she ordered. "Nudge, are you still mad at me?"

Mad at Max? Why would I be mad at Ma-

Oh yeah. Prince Hawttie.

I stepped back from Max and crossed my arms over my chest. "Yes, I am," I replied imperiously. "Nothing you can say will make me forgive you."

Max sighed, peeling Ella off of her and pulling her backpack off of her shoulder. "What if I have Ben & Jerry's?" she asked, producing a tub of ice cream from the bag.

I glanced at the ice cream, reading the label. It was Phish Phood, my ultimate favorite, and Max knew it.

Damn it! My indignation at Max trying to decide about Dylan for me and my love of Phish Phood were battling it out in my head, and I had a dreaded feeling I knew which would win.

I mean, it's ice cream with adorable fish-shaped chocolates! What's better than that?

"Fine," I sighed, pretending not to stare at the ice cream. "I guess I'll have to be forgiving of your cretinous offenses, Max."

"I am not a cretin," Max informed me. "I'm simply wiser than you, young grasshopper. And don't try to argue," she added quickly, seeing my open my mouth to do just that. "I'm the one with the ice cream."

I eyed her backpack, trying to mentally estimate how many tubs of Ben & Jerry's Max could have stuffed in it. "How much do you have anyway?" I asked somewhat wistfully.

Max patted the backpack in satisfaction, grinning at me as she did so. "I got four of Phish Phood, four of Cherry Garcia, and two Fudge Brownie," she informed us, pulling out a tub of Fudge Brownie and tossing it at her sister.

Ella caught the pint, whooping in delight as she tore it open. "Sweetness! I love you Max!" she yelped, gazing adoringly at the ice cream in her phone. "Where's a spoon?" Ella searched frantically around her room for a moment. Finding no spoon in the near vicinity, she barreled past Max out the door. We could hear her footsteps thundering down the stairs, and I could only assume she had gone to forage the kitchen for a spoon.

If you give Ella a pint of Fudge Brownie, she turns into a maniac. I would mark it under highly dangerous activities, right there along with sitting next to Gazzy while eating fast food and hugging Max when she's in one of her moods.

And speaking of Max… she stood there with her bag clutched in her arms, staring at me with an apologetic look in her eyes. I stared right back, my eyes flickering occasionally to the tub of Phish Phood in her hand.

She sighed abruptly, tearing my thoughts away from the ice cream. "Nudge, I'm sorry about Dylan," Max said quickly, her gaze sliding to the floor as she spoke. "I don't really like him myself, and neither does Fang, so we have sort of a prejudice against him. You're free to do whatever you want concerning him, though. I can't tell you what to do."

It appeared to be a struggle for Max to say those words, but she managed it, and I appreciated it. I stepped forward and hugged Max again, gently this time. "Thanks," I whispered, pulling back and smiling at her. "I'll be careful Max. He's just a hawt guy, okay? It's not like I'm vowing undying love for him."

Max grinned. "Oh, well that's fine then," she teased. "Come on, let's go downstairs so we can gorge on Ben & Jerry's and tease Ella about Iggy!"

"Heck yeah!" I cheered, following right on Max's tail as we ran out of Ella's room.

So me and Max were cool again. All thanks to a few pints of Phish Phood.

The lesson of the day? If the world would stop and just eat more ice cream, Earth would be a better planet as a whole.

Well, duh!

**Whew, this took a long time to write. =/ I don't really enjoy writing in Nudge's point of view, and I dislike praising Dylan in any way, shape, or form- but I had to do both this chapter. -sigh- the trials of being an Author.******

Sorry for the delay! Blame Fanfiction not letting me upload freaking chapters!

**Nudge: Personally, I blame Gazzy.**

** Gazzy: …whut?**

XD exactly! Please don't be upset about the whole Nudge/Dylan thing either- you'll understand in… awhile. Lol. I don't know when.

And guess what? My birthday was two days ago! Do I get reviews as presents? I hope sooo...

~TMI~


	31. Helping out the Downpour

**Dedicated to: MayreeMarvin! I can totally relate to jumping up and down while waiting for a new chapter to load, although no one's ever said that about one of my stories before! Thank you! Also once again to my bestie Amazing Grace, who gave me the honor of the longest review she's ever written! =D Thank you! And last but definitely not least, THE SEAGULL, for reviewing this even though Dylan makes her sick and she's not in the USA right now! I love you!**

**And btw Amazing Grace? When I write ZOMG, I do indeed mean zomg, not z-o-m-g. That's how I say it. XD is that weird?**

**Also, somebody told me (I forget who exactly-I'm sorry!) that alright isn't a word. Me being the stubborn, pigheaded teenager I am, went flailing for the dictionary app on my website, where I found that alright is a word. =P but you're right too- all right is also correct. I just prefer alright. =) thank you anyway!**

FPOV

Max elbowed me again. I elbowed her back. Thus, she elbowed me once more. I sighed, pausing to rub my arm for a moment. It was starting to hurt from all of this abuse. Max has some of the sharpest elbows I've ever had the misfortune to be jabbed with, and she has been using them unmercifully on my poor arm. She smirked at me. "Did I hurt you, Fangles?" Max simpered, blinking innocently at me. "Aren't big bad superstar forwards supposed to be able to defend themselves against their girlfriends? I mean, I know you're a diva and you can't take hits, but this is pathetic." Max tsked, shaking her head in mock disappointment.

So of course I elbowed her again.

She elbowed me right back.

This had been going on for roughly four and a half minutes, and it didn't appear to be stopping anytime soon.

You'd think that since we're dating and everything now, she would be nicer to me. But alas, Max still has zero qualms about physically hurting me, and I still won't let her get away with that without revenge. This should explain the lovely elbow jabs we've been trading off, but Ella doesn't seem to understand it yet. She's stared at us through the rear view mirror with this incredulous expression on her face for the entirety of our elbowing match. Poor girl- she seems in shock at our behavior.

"Shouldn't you act more… coupley now?" Ella asked skeptically, turning around to raise an eyebrow at us. She was seated in the front of the car with Dr. M. Nudge, Max, and I in that order were crammed in the back seats, and tempers were short between us. Hence, Nudge was plastered against the door on her side to get as far from Max as possible (this distance was approximately all of six inches) and was grumbling under her breath about some disagreement the two had had. It also explained the origin of the whole elbowing thing- Max got annoyed at something I said and elbowed me, which made me elbow her back, which made her elbow me again, and so on and so forth.

"Max hit me though," I explained to Ella. "Hitting isn't nice."

"So the only response was to hit her back?" Ella clarified dubiously.

I nodded. "So you do understand! Thank you Ella!"

For some unknown reason, my comment made Ella look extremely exasperated and close her eyes. "Fang, don't hit your girlfriend!" Ella chastised me. "It's not right!"

"It's abusive, that's what it is," Max remarked pointedly. She rolled the sleeve of her sweatshirt up her arm and pointed at her bicep. The skin around it was slightly pinker than the rest of her arm, although not by much. I hadn't been hitting her that hard. She was my girlfriend, after all- hitting her could be considered a crime. "See? I'm gonna bruise here!" Max whined.

I scowled at her. "You think that's bad? Look at this!" I retorted. I shifted in my seat and shoved the sleeve of my sweatshirt up. I held up my arm and pointed at my own bicep, drawing Max's attention to the injury she had inflicted on me. She stared at it with a blank expression on her face, possibly shocked that she had actually bruised me. It was already tinged purple as a result of Max's inhumanly pointy elbows, and even the slight flexing of the muscle required to lift my arm made it ache a little. Most girls just yelled at their boyfriends. Why did I have to pick the one who had no qualms about physically hurting me?

Nudge giggled suddenly, and I craned my neck to look over Max and shoot her a questioning glance. Nudge caught the look, and burst out in another giggling fit. "Max just looooves your muscles, doesn't she Fang?" Nudge chirped innocently. "She's drooling! Look!"

Max snapped her eyes away from me and glared at Nudge. I smirked. It had just dawned on me that she hadn't been examining my bruise- she had been staring at my bicep! Hehe, that was an ego booster there.

My arms aren't even that impressive- but hey, I won't argue if Max thinks they are. Which apparently, she does.

Score!

"Max drools when she looks at Fang's arm muscles?" Ella asked from the front seat, holding back her own giggles with what appeared to be extreme difficulty. "That's adorable!"

Max self-consciously wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, only to pull it away and realize she had indeed been drooling a little. This made her entire face go pink, and she wouldn't look at me for the rest of the car ride.

Maybe that was why I picked this girl. She was cute.

When we finally reached the field, all four of us hopped instantly out of the car. I don't know about the girls, but like I've said before, I'm kind of claustrophobic. I shuddered as the memory of my uncle's dog crate resurfaced in my mind.

By the time I had recovered from my claustrophobia, Max, Ella, and Nudge had all grabbed their soccer bags out of the back and were trotting out of the parking lot towards the field. I quickly followed them, and we jogged until we had reached the spot where the Raine Valley Downpour was warming up for their game.

It was Sunday afternoon, and Ella and Max were trying out for Nudge's competitive team, the Downpour. I had watched the Downpour play before, a few times with Gazzy when they had games before or after our team, and a few times with Terra and Matt. Terra and I had gone to watch Nudge play, and Matt's girlfriend Daphne was the goalie for the Downpour.

Max, Nudge and Ella had apparently had a sleepover last night, and at about eleven o' clock this morning they all showed up at my door and demanded I go to the park with them. Personally, I figured that Ella and Nudge just wanted to continue to push Max and I together, even though we were now dating. At least, that's what made sense to me, since they insisted on walking behind us and squealing every time our hands so much as brushed. It was kind of cute, but mostly annoying.

At around twelve, we wandered over towards the swingsets. There were only three regular sized swings though, and four of us.

Okay, I'm not that good at math, but even I recognized a problem there.

"Oh it's okay," Ella chirped, an evil glint in her eyes as she and Nudge claimed two of the swings. "Max can sit in Fang's lap!"

I stared at her in disbelief. "That was a low blow, Ella," I informed her. "Max can have the swing."

Max smiled, skipping over to the swing and plopping down in it triumphantly. "Thank you Fang," she sang. "You're the best," she added, pumping her legs to climb higher.

I simply nodded and smirked at the annoyed expressions on Ella and Nudge's faces. Fang and Max 1, Nudge and Ella 0.

"Maybe he's just afraid he'll get 'excited' if Max sits in his lap for too long," Nudge stage whispered to Ella. Ella nodded in sage agreement.

"EWWW!" Max screeched, stopping dead mid-swing. Ella and Nudge snickered at her reaction and high fived each other.

Okay, now we were tied. That was a good one, I had to admit.

It took over half an hour before the girls finally got tired of the swings. During that half hour I amused myself by watching the elated expression on Max's face as she swung higher and higher. She was just like Ria and Angel in that respect- My little sister and pretty-much-little sister refused to get off the swings sometimes. The duo declared they were long lost bird sisters who had to keep flying in order to stay together. If they got off the swings they would plummet into a fiery pit of lava and roast to death.

Well, at least they were creative. I guess.

"Well, what do you guys want to do now?" I asked, feeling slightly pathetic as I trailed behind the three chattering females. I was spending my Sunday afternoon with my girlfriend, girlfriend's little sister, and other female friend. They were actually debating Peeta versus Gale (Max Team Peeta, Ella and Nudge Team Gale), and using vocabulary such as 'hawt', 'smexy', 'sweet', 'adorable', 'charming', and 'megasuperfoxyawesomehot'. My brain couldn't even process that last one properly. I don't speak Teenage Girl.

There was no doubt in my mind that my testosterone levels were shrinking by the second.

"Well, we could go swimming at my place," Nudge suggested, turning around to face me. I guess she finally took pity on my loneliness in the back here.

"Swimming sounds good," Ella agreed. She grinned mischievously at Max. "Just make sure you watch your drool, young lady!"

Max blushed, whacking Ella in the shoulder. "Shut up," she growled, not looking at me.

"I have a game at three, though," Nudge realized. "And I have to be there at two fifteen. Does anybody have the time?"

Ella and Max started digging for their phones, but I simply glanced at my wrist. "It's one forty five," I told Nudge. "You guys really should think about wearing watches," I added, tapping the face of my own silver watch. "They come in handy."

Max rolled her eyes, and Ella shook her head. "Then you get watch tans, which I really don't need. Plus, they make your wrist smell bad," she informed me. "So no watch for Ella!"

Nudge's eyes widened suddenly. "Crap! I have to go get ready," she exclaimed, turning on her heel and starting to run back towards the entrance of the park. Max, Ella and I looked at each other for a moment.

"Follow her?" Max suggested.

"Yeah," Ella agreed. I nodded in confirmation, and we set off after Nudge.

Just when we had caught up to her, Nudge stopped dead in the middle of the path. "Dammit," she groaned, flopping down onto a bench. "My dad's at work and my mom has a doctor's appointment in ten minutes. I don't have a ride!" Nudge buried her head in her hands. "Christie is going to kill me for not showing up," she murmured. "We're playing Hillcrest today, and they have this one amazing forward she makes me mark."

"Our mom could drive you," Ella offered, pulling Nudge up off the bench. "She's off work until five today."

Nudge looked up gratefully, her gaze switching between Ella and Max. "Really? Could you do that? She wouldn't mind?" Nudge asked, looking immensely relieved.

"Of course," Max assured her. She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and flipped it open. "I'll call her right now."

"Thank you thank you thank you sooooo much I can't thank you enough my coach would have murdered me if I missed this game!" Nudge babbled. "C'mon, I still need to go get dressed! Could your mom pick me up from my house?"

"I'll ask," Max promised, putting her phone to her ear.

We continued out of the park and started down Nudge's street. We hadn't gone more than ten feet when Nudge's phone started blasting Justin Bieber at us. She squealed at the noise, and sang along while she dug through her pocket to answer her phone. Max rolled her eyes, still on her own phone call. "Hello, this is Nudge," Nudge sang into her phone, twisting a curl around her fingers as she spoke. She stopped abruptly after a moment though, listening intently to the person on the other line. "Daphne and Payton sick? Ouch," she remarked, wincing. Nudge went silent again as the other person spoke. Ten seconds later though, her eyes lit up and a huge smile blossomed on her face. "ZOMG really? That's so cool, cause they're right here with me now! In fact, their mom is going to drive me to the game today!" Nudge exclaimed. "Yeah, I'll ask right now. Wait a sec Christie."

Ella looked at Nudge quizzically, but Max was too busy on the phone to notice Nudge's conversation. "Nudge, my mom can take you there," Max announced suddenly, looking towards Nudge. "She'll be at your house at two o' clock sharp."

"Tell her to bring your and Ella's soccer stuff, too!" Nudge squealed. "Two of my teammates are sick, and Christie wants you two to play today. It'll be like a try out, but you'll also be helping us out!"

"Are we allowed to do that?" Max asked skeptically. "I mean, don't we have player cards for this league or anythin-"

"It doesn't matter," Nudge interrupted, still grinning wildly. "It's a scrimmage- but we still aren't allowed to lose to Hillcrest! So are you up for it?"

Ella tsked loudly, giving Nudge an exaggerated disapproving look. "Nudge, Nudge, Nudge. You just offered to let us play extra soccer-" Ella started.

"OF COURSE WE'RE UP FOR IT!" Max interrupted, high fiving her sister. "Mom, Ella and I are gonna play too," Max said into her phone, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Can you bring our soccer bags? They're in the garage."

"What are we supposed to wear?" Ella asked Nudge, looking confused. "We can't exactly play dressed like this." She gestured towards her blue skirt and lacy white shirt, and to Max's jeans and red tank top. "I doubt this is your uniform," Ella added, tugging self-consciously at the hem of her skirt.

I smiled at her. "Actually, it's not too far from it," I pointed out. "Our club colors are blue and white."

"Yeah Christie, they can play. Kay, see you at the game! Bye!" Nudge snapped her phone shut, then nodded at me. "Fang's right, Ella, you actually are dressed in the right colors at least. Max is wearing Fiora Club colors though," Nudge realized. "Bad girl!"

Max had already hung up with her mom, and now gave Nudge an exasperated look. "Nudge, I have no idea what you're even talking about. Cut me some slack," she complained.

"Fiora Club is almost as bad as Hillcrest," Nudge explained, slowly "Red and blue equals Fiora, which equals bad. Blue and white equals Raine Valley, which equals good. Understand?"

"Fine," Max muttered, rolling her eyes. "Can you actually answer Ella's question instead of prattling about team colors?"

Nudge pouted, sticking her tongue out at Max in retaliation. "I don't prattle," she replied stiffly.

"And the sky is maroon," Max coughed not-so-discreetly.

"To answer Ella's question, though," Nudge continued, pointedly ignoring Max's interjection, "Christie has extra uniforms. She can give them to you to change into at the game."

"Oh, okay then," Ella said, looking surprised. "Let's hurry up then."

"Hey Fang, do you want to just come watch or something?" Max asked, smiling sideways at me as we jogged down the street to Nudge's house. "My mom can drive you there and back too."

I smiled at Max's offer. "That would be cool. My mom's not expecting me home till six," I replied. "And Christie likes me, so I can hang out on the team side too."

"Christie loves Fang," Nudge informed Max, grinning mischievously. "She always tells us how he's going to be the next Lionel Messi, Landon Donovan, and David Beckham combined. You've got some competition, Max!"

"Wow, that's an intense combination," Max remarked, ignoring the last part of Nudge's comment. "Messi, Donovan, and Beckham, Fang?" she teased.

I shrugged. "It's good to have dreams," I explained airily. Max laughed, nodding in mock understanding.

"We're here!" Nudge announced, a little unneccessarily, as we turned down the front path to her house. She pulled out her keys to unlock the door, than bounced inside. "I'm gonna go get dressed, you guys can go pig out in the kitchen or something. Just don't weigh yourselves down too much! Hillcrest is a fast team!" Nudge instructed, her voice growing fainter as she ran down the hall and out of sight.

Max, Ella and I looked at each other. "Deja vu," I remarked.

Ella nodded. "Once more, Nudge has run off and left us standing here awkwardly," she agreed calmly. "Shall we raid her pantry?"

"We shall," Max decided, heading towards the kitchen. I smirked to myself, following the girls towards the food. Trust Max to be the one to lead the way to snacks.

By the time Nudge was dressed in her blue and white Downpour uniform and ready to go, we had successfully unearthed Ritz crackers from her cupboards and were slathering them with chunky Skippy peanut butter. Delicious.

Nudge grabbed a cracker off of Ella's stack as she walked in. She knew that was the safest person to steal from, since Max and I were liable to bite if our food was taken away. Ella, however, wasn't as protective or animalistic about her food though, which Nudge now used to her advantage. When she nicked the cracker, Ella squeaked in protest, but predictably didn't attempt to retaliate.

Nudge had a wise strategy for such an innocent young grasshopper.

Max's phone trilled, causing us all to look towards where it lay on the countertop. She flipped it open and quickly scanned the screen before nodding and closing it with a snap. We stood there, waiting, as she shoved the device in her pocket and finished slathering her last cracker with peanut butter. Of course food was Max's priority- duh. "That was Mom. She's waiting outside," Max reported, grabbing her stack of crackers and heading out of the kitchen. We followed her without question, each carrying our own crackers.

Max wasn't the only one concerned with food.

We all piled into Dr. M's van, Ella in the passenger seat and Nudge, Max and I crammed into the back. "Hi Dr. M!" Nudge chirped. "Thank you so much for driving me on such short notice, you totally saved my life there! I put my bag in the trunk with Max's and Ella's is that okay?"

Dr. M smiled, her head miraculously not imploding from trying to process Nudge's superhuman chatter. "It's no problem, Nudge," she replied, twisting around in her seat to look back as we started to reverse out of Nudge's driveway. "And I'm sure Max and Ella are thanking you for giving them a chance to play extra soccer," she added, glancing knowingly at both of her daughters. Max grinned and gave her a thumbs up, while Ella just shrugged and flashed a guilty smile.

"You know us too well, Mother dearest," Max sighed, lounging back in her seat.

"Hey, get your paws off me," Nudge complained, pushing Max's arms off the back of her seat where they had been resting.

And it all went downhill from there in the Saga of the Unfortunate Backseat Dwellers.

Luckily, that was far behind us now, and we were all in much better spirits at the prospect of soccer in our near futures.

"I'm gonna go ask Christie for the extra uniforms, kay? Stay here!" Nudge told us. She ran straight up to where Christie stood and watched over the Downpour's warmup while Max and Ella dawdled behind with me. Ella seemed nervous, but she was calm and smiling determinedly at the girls warming up. A couple of them waved to her, and she waved back, standing up straighter as she started to gain more confidence. Max looked excited too, but at the same time, she was slowly edging closer and closer to me, as if she needed reassurance. Without a thought to the fact that she definitely might hit me, I reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently.

Max looked up at me, startled by my actions. I smiled at her, swinging our hands slightly back and forth. "You'll be fine," I informed her, trying to push away the unsaid doubts that I knew were lingering around her. "You're Maximum Ride, remember? Star center mid for Cromwell High? That ridiculously fast freshman girl?" I nudged her shoulder with every sentence, watching her smile grow a little each time.

"Thanks, Fang," Max murmured. She looked down at our interlocked hands, squeezing tightly as she smiled again, this time with full Max Ride confidence. Watching Max smile made me smile too.

Aww crap. I'm turning into an idiot.

Christie chose this moment to turn and look over at us. I could see her sharp gaze pass over my hand twined with Max's, scanning over both of us briefly. Her expression didn't change as she looked Ella over. Then she nodded, said something to Nudge, and turned back to continue overseeing the other girls' warm ups.

We watched as Nudge picked her way through the pile of soccer bags scattered around Christie. She dropped her own bag at the edge of the pile, then leaned over and pulled out two full-to-the-bursting gallon Ziplocs from the open pocket of a big black bag. Nudge stepped carefully out of the mess of bags, then jogged back over to where we were standing. "Ella, you're going to be number thirty six today, all right?" Nudge tossed one of the Ziplocs at Ella, who caught it deftly and nodded. "And Max is going to be number ninety eight," Nudge added. She handed Max the other Ziploc. "Blue jersey, black shorts, blue socks, change in the bathroom and come back as fast as you can to warm up," Nudge instructed. "Fang, make yourself useful and show them where the bathrooms are, mkay?"

I rolled my eyes at her as Nudge turned and ran back to her team. "This way," I announced, tugging Max in the direction of the bathrooms. She quickly dropped her bag by the big pile of Downpour bags, Ella following suit before trotting obediently after us, thankfully making no comment towards Max's hand in mine.

Phew.

It only took a couple minutes to get to the bathrooms, and Ella immediately slipped inside. Max hesitated, glancing down at our hands and back up at me. "Fang… I should go get changed." Max sighed, her voice sounding slightly regretful.

"You should," I agreed. I stood there and waited for Max to let go, to go head into the bathrooms and change into the Downpour uniform. She didn't, though. She just stood there, looking at me with indecision written all over her face. "Max?" I prompted, wondering if she was spacing out.

Then she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed me full on the lips.

I was shell-shocked, to tell the truth. After all, technically I've only kissed Max about three times. The fireworks, lightning bolt and thunder crash, all-hell-has-broken-loose-and-it-feels-so-right sensation was still new and breathtaking every time.

I reached up and cupped Max's chin with my free hand, angling my head slightly as I gently tugged her closer. Max smiled against my lips, but pulled away softly. I opened my eyes, realizing they had shut by themselves while I was reveling in the wonder of actually being able to kiss Max.

"Now I should go get changed," Max teased. She slipped her hand from mine, dropping it to her side and smiling at me as she disappeared into the girls' bathroom.

A sigh escaped my lips as I turned and fell back against the rough stone of the bathroom wall. I barely noticed my head colliding with the hard surface, my thoughts too full of Max to care about anything else.

Ahhh… Max. She was perfect.

And she was all mine.

MPOV

I smiled as I slipped into the bathroom, holding the Ziploc bag with the Downpour uniform tightly as I tried to control my emotions.

I loved the way my hand fit with his. I loved the way that he knew I was nervous and doubting myself when even Ella didn't notice. I loved the way I could just reach up and kiss him, and have him instantly kiss me back. I loved the way his lips were smooth and chapped at the same time. And I loved the dumbstruck expression I was able to put on his face- it was like I had brought his brick wall mask crashing down with just a single kiss.

I loved Fang.

Only a day ago this realization would've sent me over the edge with anxiety. I never would have been able to look in Fang's direction again. I would have begged Mom to move again, just so I wouldn't have to worry about facing him with the knowledge that I loved him. I would have felt like a total weakling for allowing him to take my heart even after my crushing experience with Sam.

But now… now I felt stronger than ever. I knew Fang wouldn't abuse my trust like Sam had… Fang was nothing like Sam.

And he was all mine.

With this beautiful thought in mind, I stepped into a stall and closed the door behind me.

My first item of business was to actually find the right uniform. I pulled open the Ziploc bag and started pawing through for the uniform Nudge had instructed me to put on. The first thing I pulled out, however, was a white jersey. The back was emblazoned with a royal blue 98, and the front pierced with jagged bolts of the same blue. There was a small circular badge with the club insignia printed in black right above where my heart would be.

It was an awesome jersey, but it was the wrong one. The park we were at was the Downpour's home field, so the white jerseys had to be part of their away uniform. After a moment of digging, I pulled out the home jersey, the blue one that Nudge had instructed me to wear. It was the exact copy of the away jersey, only in reverse coloring- the background blue, and the numbers, bolts, and badge white.

I slipped out of my tank top, but kept my white camisole on underneath as I pulled the jersey over my head. It smelled like laundry soap, so at least it was clean. My old coach in Nevada rarely washed his spare uniforms, which actually made my team become more diligent on keeping track of their own jerseys.

I had to say though- I preferred Christie's methods to Coach Tim's.

The rest of the bag's contents included one pair of blue socks, one of white, and a pair of shorts. The shorts were all black with a white 98 on the right leg and another white club badge printed on the left. I greatly admired the silky material they were made out of as I tugged off my jeans and slid into the shorts. The Downpour had some high quality uniforms, I would give them that.

After I had fished out the blue socks and stuffed everything else back in the Ziploc bag, I folded up my clothes and slung them over my arm as I left the stall. Ella was already dressed too, and was busily fixing her ponytail. She tried to check it in the mirror hanging above the sink, but only succeeded in making her nose look vaguely Squidward-esque in the badly distorted reflection.

I grinned at her. "Nice look, Ella dearest," I complimented her, giving her uniform an exaggerated once over. Ella struck a pose, almost flinging her socks into the sink as she did so. The jersey swamped her small frame, covering all but the last inch of her shorts. "You look dwarfed in that getup," I remarked, surveying our warped reflections in the mirror. I tugged at Ella's sleeve, the end of which was dangling by her elbow.

Mine was just covering mid-bicep.

"How come I got the bigger jersey when you're the taller one?" Ella demanded. She plucked moodily at the baggy jersey hanging off her slender torso.

"'Cause I'm awesome?" I replied in a 'duh' voice. "Deal with it Ells, it's only for one game."

Ella continued to grumble as we exited the bathroom. Fang was leaning against the wall, hands in his sweatshirt pockets and gaze on the sky. "Ready?" he asked, inspecting us in our new uniforms.

"Let's roll," Ella declared. "We better hurry up, too. Nudge said warm ups started at two fifteen, and it's two twenty eight right now." Without another word, we all broke into a jog and headed back to the field.

As soon as we were back, Ella and I quickly sat down next to our bags, tugging off our sneakers and pulling on our gear. I was just strapping on my second shinguard when Christie walked over to us, her sharp eyes trained on me.

"Max Ride?" she asked, giving me a searching look.

"That's me," I confirmed. I reached for the first of the blue socks and started pulling it on my left foot.

Christie turned to Ella next. "Ella Martinez?" she verified. Ella nodded, smiling hesitantly at the all-business aura Christie practically exuded. "Great. I've heard very promising things about you two," Christie informed us, flashing a quick smile. Ella and I glanced at each other, confused. Had Nudge ranted about us to her coach? Christie seemed to notice our evident confusion at this, and explained, "I'm friends with your mother, and Anne Walker from college- we played together on the UC Santa Clara women's team. I understand you two play on Anne's team at Cromwell?" We both nodded, slightly shocked at the information that Christie and Anne had been team mates in a university league. "Positions?"

"Mainly center midfield, but I'll play anywhere you need me to, except goalie," I replied. "I stink at goalie."

"Really?" Christie looked amused for some reason. "Strange. How about you, Ella?"

Ella shrugged, focusing on tying the laces of her bright green cleat. "Sweeper and stopper mostly," she told the coach. "But like Max said, if you need a certain position filled, I can play it. Unlike my sister, I'm a pretty decent goalie if you need it."

Christie laughed. "Thats okay, I was just teasing. We don't actually need a goalie today- one of our goalies is sick, but we have our backup here perfectly healthy."

"Phew," I sighed. "Goalie is not a fun position."

"It's funny that you feel that way, when your mother-" Christie began.

She was cut off by the center referee's whistle blowing. "Captains!" he called imperiously from the middle of the field.

Christie looked out calculatingly over her team, as if analyzing each in turn. "Chloe and Sheila, you're captains today," she ordered. Two girls, one with red braids and the other sporting a long blond ponytail, nodded and jogged off towards the refs. Christie turned to Ella and I next, glancing between us and the rest of the team. "I want you girls to introduce yourselves and warm up alone," Christie instructed. "Everyone else has already finished warming up, but I don't need you two going on the field cold. Understand?"

"Yep," I agreed. Ella nodded, and Christie turned back to her clipboard to draw up her starting line up.

Ella dragged me over to the huddle of Downpour players, smiling brightly at them as she did so. Nudge spotted us first, of course, with her hyperactive eyes seeing everything at once. "Kay, guys, these are my friends from school!" Nudge announced, drawing everyone's attention. I stood up straighter and looked each girl steadily in the eye as Nudge babbled on. "This is Ella Martinez, and she's really cool and awesome and an amazing defender- she plays center defense with me on the Cromwell team and we kick butt together and she's the sweetest person ever but she'll still knock you down if she needs to. This is her sister, Max Ride, who is equally as awesome- and yes Jojo, they are sisters even though they have different last names. Max is a center mid on Cromwell, and she's scored a goal per game so far this season! I rank her skill next to Gazzy Richards and Fang Rianild- I call them Rated R on Cromwell cause their last names all start with R- and ZOMG the most important part! Max is dating Fang!"

All eyes were on me. I shifted awkwardly, kind of embarrassed by Nudge's rant. "Fang is your boyfriend?" one of them asked, sounding slightly in awe. She stared at me respectfully through bright blue eyes.

Well. Hero worship because of my boyfriend? Interesting.

"No duh. That's why he was holding her hand earlier, Cassie," a dark haired girl retorted. She turned to me and smiled. "I'm Flo, Max, and I'd like to say that you and Fang make the cutest couple I've ever seen," she informed me.

I blushed at this matter-of-fact praise, glancing at Ella for help. "Umm, thanks Flo," I mumbled. I was so bad at this. It was hard to let other people whom I had just met judge my new relationship with Fang.

Luckily, my most amazing sister came to the rescue, grinning at Flo. "Max and Fang are adorable, right?" Ella told her good-naturedly. "We just moved here a little while ago, and Fang is our neighbor."

The girl from before, Cassie I think, gasped with shock. "Fang Rianild is your neighbor? You're so lucky! Do you get to see him with his shirt off?" she asked rapturously.

I glared at her, feeling suddenly possessive of both Fang and his shirtlessness. "Yes," I replied frostily. "All the time. Because Fang walks around the neighborhood with his shirt off, of course! How else would he spend his time?"

A bunch of the girls laughed, but Cassie just looked confused. She cocked her head at me and fingered a dark brown curl as if in deep thought. "He does?" she finally asked.

"You're so slow, Cass," another girl groaned teasingly, slinging an arm around Cassie's shoulder and rocking her side to side. "Max is being sarcastic!"

"Sarcasm is my native language," I added helpfully.

Cassie laughed, grinning between me and the girl on her shoulders. "Sorry, I don't pick up on your language too well," Cassie apologized, looking genuinely friendly. I felt my initial dislike towards her slowly melt away- Cassie wasn't a jerk, she was just a bit spacey. Spacey I could deal with.

"Max! Ella! Warm up!" Christie ordered, looking up to see us all huddling together and talking. "The rest of you, go take shots on Annelise until the game begins."

The crowd of girls instantly broke up, still laughing and talking as they moved to follow their coach's orders. Ella and I glanced at each other again, wondering what warm up Christie expected us to do. "Let's just do Anne's warm up," I finally decided. "Christie probably won't mind."

Ella nodded. "Okay," she agreed. "Let's do it quickly though. We're probably going to start soon." And without further discussion, we started off in the Lynxes' usual warm up.

True to Ella's prediction, the ref blew his whistle again less than a minute after we had finished our warm up. "Downpour! Come here!" Christie boomed, her voice easily traveling down the field.

I wondered if her college coach had taught that skill to the whole team- both Anne and Christie were excellent at making themselves heard.

Her loud voice was very useful in calling her team to gather, though. They were all surrounding her within the minute she yelled. Christie smiled, pulling out her clipboard and tapping it with the capped end of her pen as she spoke. "Alright now, lineup," she began. "Victoria and Chloe, you're up at forward. Sheila, Jojo, Max, and Flo- midfield left to right. Cassie left wing defense and Garnet right wing, Nudge and Ella sweeper and stopper. You two can switch off sweeping and stopping whenever you need to. Annelise in goal." Christie looked up from her clipboard, scanning our faces as we all watched her talk. "We don't have any subs today girls, and we're lucky that Max and Ella were available to play today," Christie continued, nodding towards my sister and I. "Play hard, but play smart. Don't wear yourselves out chasing those girls down. And Nudge, you know to stick to number forty eight like glue. Shut her down," Christie instructed, fixing her eyes on Nudge. Nudge nodded in response, her brown eyes serious for once. "Have you made your introductions to Max and Ella?" Christie asked.

This seemed to spark a routine in the girls, because they started rattling off their names left to right around the circle. The blonde captain was Chloe and the redheaded one Sheila, and they both looked serious and tough. I made special note towards memorizing the names of the midfielders, since I would probably be interacting with them most. Sheila, of course, was the redheaded outside left, while Jojo was a tall brunette with a white brace laced up her left ankle. Flo was chatting with the defender named Garnet as they both wove their dark hair into matching, tight braids. "Who's about to hit the field?" Christie yelled suddenly.

"DOWNPOUR!" the girls around me screamed, suddenly fiercely attentive.

"Then hit them like a hurricane, girls! 'Cause what does a downpour do?"

"WE STORM!" everyone yelled in unison. There was some unspoken cue for a hand stack, and everyone burst out onto the field at a sprint. Ella and I glanced at each other in confusion before quickly following.

"Sorry about that," Nudge apologized as soon as we had settled into position. "I forgot to tell you about our pre-game stuff, guys. But you handled it well enough."

"Now I know how you're so good at knowing when Anne wants us to yell," I informed her. "You have practice with Christie."

Nudge laughed, but before she could respond, the Hillcrest Flare, dressed in red and white jerseys with gray shorts, took the field. A sense of grim purpose settled over both teams, and I instantly knew that this game would be no picnic. These girls had grudges to fulfill.

"I bet you Emmi is on her period," Flo murmured back to Garnet, not taking very much care to keep her voice down. "She looks pissed for no reason."

"Lovely. Keep it to yourself next time, Flo," Garnet called back, wrinkling her nose. "I don't want to hear about Emmi and her little red friend."

Flo flashed her a grin, before falling back into seriousness. I could tell she wanted to win, probably to tick off this Emmi character more.

I would do my best to help her win, then. I know a thing or two about grudges, myself.

The ref placed the ball at the center, then backed off hurriedly, as if he knew how ferocious this game would get, and was dreading the fouls to come. Frankly, I didn't blame the poor guy. Thoughts of his well-being drained from my mind, though, when he blew his whistle and the Flare forward tapped the ball off the line.

Let the game begin.

**Well, I was going to put the game in this chapter, but then it would get rushed, and I know how much you guys love the soccer games. XD**

**You probably don't care, do you? Actually, please let me know your views on the games- I'm really curious to know, actually.**

**Review please! =) I go back to school next week. Winter Break, come baaaaack…**

**~TMI~**


	32. Flare vs Downpour

**DEDICATED TO: myshkaful, Emma-Kate9885, Erin319, and Love My Writing Or Else! I just love your reviews. They're always so great. =D**

**Someone asked if I'm actually on my highschool team, since apparently I'm very naive in soccer lingo. In response to that, I'm not in high school. Yes, I play on my school team, but I'm not in high school yet.**

**(I haven't done one of these in awhile, have I?) Disclaimer: I was in this honors band thing on Friday, so I had like half an hour of free time sitting on my trumpet case in a hallway filled with random kids I didn't know. Naturally, I pulled out my iPod and started writing School Days!**

**Btw, pooch means a low corner shot to any non-soccery people. =P I'm not even sure if it's the proper term, but that's what my coach calls it. -shrug-**

Victoria sprinted forward and slammed into the Flare forward, causing the ball to start ricocheting indefinitely between the girls' feet. I couldn't help but just stand and watch as Victoria pulled a sudden, beautiful maradona and whirled away from the forward. She ran down the middle, moving so quickly and gracefully that she appeared effortless as she juked another defender.

"Wow," I murmured to myself, hurrying to catch up to Victoria. "That girl is fancy."

Unfortunately, fanciness alone couldn't get Victoria all the way up the field. She passed off to her fellow forward, Chloe, who touched the ball just once before passing right back to Victoria in a neat wall pass.

While the Downpour forwards obviously knew what they were doing, the Flare defense were no amateurs either. Their sweeper, a tall girl with a long, tightly braided brown ponytail, crashed into Victoria and came away seconds later dribbling the ball. She carried it forward a few steps, then sent a powerful through ball into the space between Flo and I. A Flare midfielder, number thirteen, darted towards the ball and successfully reached it before Flo or I could get there. For whatever reason (probably 'cause I'm an abnormally possessive child) the only thought that ran through my mind as I sprinted after her was that the girl had my Lynxes number.

She must pay.

I sped up, slightly changing direction to run at the best angle to get to number thirteen quickly. As I closed in on her though, the girl started drawing the ball to her right foot. Without thinking, I zeroed in on that foot, and lunged to kick the ball away from her.

Then she pulled the most beautiful double scissors I had ever seen anyone do, completely juking me and cutting to her left.

I skidded to a stop, vaguely feeling the inside of my cleats burn my heels as I tried to change direction after Thirteen. Frankly, I was lucky I even stayed on my feet at that point. Only my cleats dug deep into the grass and the most focused balancing (read as: flailing my arms around in a pathetic attempt to stay standing) I could summon up kept my butt from kissing dirt.

When I had finally caught myself properly, Thirteen was still streaking down the field, Flo hot on her tail. Thirteen cut around Garnet at first, but when she tried to force her way further down the line, Garnet easily poked the ball away from her. Thirteen stumbled, scrambling wildly to regain possession as Garnet dodged around her and darted towards the ball. She settled it under her left foot for half a second, then sent a powerful pass to Flo up the line. Flo turned with the ball, carrying it with her until a Flare midfielder started to challenge her. Instantly, with a smooth calmness that I envied, Flo crossed the ball high over the Flare defense to a waiting Downpour player- Jojo. Jojo only paused to settle the ball again before sending it up the left side directly to Sheila, who was already running up in anticipation for the pass.

The Downpour worked like a well-oiled machine, and here I was messing up the rhythm in the first five minutes.

I shook my head, trying to snap myself out of my pity party as I hurried back up the field. Sheila was a fast runner, and by the time I caught up to the play she was attempting a shot on goal. The ball sailed powerfully from her left foot, aiming for the top right corner of the goal. My eyes tracked the shot as it flew over everyone's heads, arcing gracefully towards the net.

Then it was plucked from the sky by a pair of black gloved hands, cradled instantly to the body of the Flare goalie. "Go Jenna!" One of the Flare forwards shouted behind me. "Nice save!"

The goalie, Jenna I guess, flipped her dark brown ponytail and trotted out to the edge of the goalbox. The Downpour all retreated, backpedaling almost to the half line. It was obvious they knew this goalie had a big boot. I hurried back a little further, keeping my eyes on Jenna as she surveyed the field.

Then, with a single fluid motion, Jenna stepped forward and dropped the ball to her right foot. It seemed to rocket off of her cleat, soaring at least eighty feet and traveling quickly. Time seemed to slow down as the ball climbed rapidly upwards, and started to descend.

My eyes were locked on the ball- it was heading straight for me, but from the way it was angled in the drop I could tell it was going over my head. Instead of trying to backpedal crazily and just end up tripping over myself, I turned to the side so I was in an open stance facing the sideline. Now I could help whoever got the ball, instead of standing with my back turned to them like a wall.

My prediction proved correct when the ball flew high over my head, dropping to an abrupt halt under a familiar bright green cleat.

"Go Ella!" Nudge shrieked. "Cassie's open!"

My sister ignored Nudge's instruction, carrying the ball forward instead of passing off to Cassie. She darted around a Flare midfielder, only to Croif suddenly back a moment later to slam a hard, sure pass to Jojo. Jojo trapped the ball and burst off down the side with it, Sheila trailing about ten yards behind her for backup.

Even my sister was excelling here, while I was busy tripping over my own feet. I gritted my teeth, clenching my fists and surging back up the field to support the play.

Jojo had made it to the goal box, and was one on one with the Flare sweeper- that girl with the long braided ponytail. Jojo slowed down slightly, her eyes locked on the sweeper's as she quickly tried to think up a way through to the goal.

Unfortunately, Jojo waited a little too long. Within seconds, two other defenders had reached Jojo and the sweeper, making it three on one: not exactly a fair match. One of the new defenders lunged forward and smashed the ball away from Jojo's feet. It sailed high in the air, flying out of the goal box. That defender had a pretty big boot.

It was just a stroke of bad luck for her that the ball ended up directed straight at me. Here was a chance to redeem myself for being juked by Thirteen, and I wasn't about to waste it. I tracked the ball's descent through the air, stepping backwards and a little to the left to make sure I was square in front of it. The ball hit me directly in the chest, and I caved in slightly to allow for the impact. It dropped lightly to my feet, and I was instantly dribbling back towards the box.

The Flare defense was quick though, and I was forced to pass off to Flo after only five or six steps. Flo didn't even pause to settle the ball, instead one-touching it in a high arcing cross to Victoria. She trapped it on her thigh and darted forward, ramming past the sweeper and back into the goal box. Instead of taking the shot though, Victoria sent a quick pass to Chloe, who pounded it swiftly to the far corner of the goal. Jenna dove, but her black gloves only scraped the very edge of the ball as it rocketed into the net. Chloe pumped her fist in victory, slapping a high five with Victoria and jogging back towards the midline. Jenna just lay on the grass, her arms still outstretched and her head craned to stare at the ball spinning in the back of the net.

"Nice play! Nice play!" Christie yelled from the sideline. "Good job, Downpour!"

"So you're a play starter," Flo observed, suddenly falling into step with me as we jogged back to center up.

"What?" I asked, momentarily confused.

Flo flashed me a grin. "A play starter," she repeated. "The type of player who settled her team down and reminds them to make plays instead of running around aimlessly."

I grin back, bumping shoulders with her before we separated to our starting positions. "I guess I am," I murmured. I can't say I didn't like the idea. "Nice shot, Chloe," I called up to the forward who had scored.

She turned and smiled at me, giving me a thumbs up sign. "Thanks," she replied. "Good work setting it up for me."

My grin widened. "Thanks," I repeated. The Downpour seemed like a pretty chill group of girls so far. As far as I could tell, no one was a super diva— or maybe their divas just weren't present today. Whatever the reality, I was liking this core team.

Thirteen settled the ball back on the line, instantly snapping me out of my musings. The game wasn't even half over, and I still needed to focus. I could make friends later.

The ref blew his whistle, the Flare forwards tapped the ball forward, and the game restarted.

Time passed by in a flurry of plays and fouls on both teams. I quickly discovered who the girl named Emmie was —the one Flo and Garnet had been talking about at the beginning— and why they believed her to be menstruating. She was small and blonde and deceptively innocent, but had no qualms about shoving and grabbing and cussing out the entire Downpour in one breath. Luckily for us, her deceiving appearance didn't save her from getting called for four fouls in the first half. It seemed that the ref was wise to dear Emmie's tricks.

Phew.

A few minutes after we had restarted, Chloe had a rather large disagreement with the Flare goalie. Jenna had made the mistake of trying to tackle her legs as Chloe prepared to shoot, and got a cleat to the chin and a ball to the forehead for her trouble. The ball went bouncing off wildly towards the sideline while Chloe flailed through the air, her feet knocked from under her. It was Jenna's bad luck that Chloe managed to land on the goalie's ribs, digging and elbow into her stomach as she did so.

Chloe clutched her ankle, rolling weakly off of Jenna and lying on her back as the goalie wheezed helplessly into the grass. The ref screeched on his whistle, running over to check the damage.

Chloe sat up, rubbing her ankle vigorously and rotating it carefully. She stood up after a moment, and although she winced slightly at her first step, she seemed to be perfectly fine.

Jenna, on the other hand, was not so fine. Her black gloves were clasped over her face, and she was tightly curled into the fetal position. Her shoulders were racking up and down as she took a deep, shuddering breath, and it looked to me like she was crying.

I couldn't really blame the girl. Goalie is a hard position, and Jenna had just met with one of the dangers of the job.

The ref bent down over Jenna, speaking softly to her as she lay there. The field went silent, everyone's eyes on the prone goalie. Abruptly, the ref straightened, signaling for the Flare coach to come out. He sprang off the Flare's bench and jogged quickly over, a look of concern etched onto his face. The coach knelt beside Jenna, putting a hand on her shoulder and talking quietly just as the ref had done. Jenna rolled over and tried to sit up, her gloves still clasped over her face. The coach gently pulled Jenna to her feet, supporting her with one arm as he motioned to a platinum blonde girl on the bench with another. "Ref, I'd like a goalie change," he requested, already leading Jenna over to the sideline.

The ref nodded. "Of course," he replied instantly. We all watched as Jenna stumbled off the field, her gloves never leaving her face as the Flare coach guided her to the bench. The replacement goalie ran onto the field, this one wearing a bright purple jersey and yellow gloves. As soon as the blonde girl had settled herself in the goal, the ref glanced over at Chloe, who had limped over to confer with Victoria. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked, eyeing her ankle.

Chloe shrugged. "I'm fine," she confirmed. "I can still play."

"Alright then, let's continue. Player, roll the ball to the goalie and we'll restart with her dropkick," the ref directed. 'Player' was Chloe, and the Flare defender who had retrieved the ball passed it to her. Chloe nodded once, passing the ball softly to the goalie and starting to backpedal out of the box. The goalie grabbed it immediately, turning the ball over in her yellow gloves as she brought it to the edge of the penalty box and dropkicking it out.

It was kind of disappointing, actually. Jenna had an amazing dropkick that I had been forced to admire, but this backup barely kicked the ball thirty feet. Wow.

I let go of the thought and continued to play. I couldn't afford to be distracted. After all, I was still trying out for the team.

I'm not sure exactly when after the goalie incident that it happened, but somewhere in the steady flow of play, while the ball constantly changed possession, I decided to try and break the current.

Emmie and Thirteen were passing their way down the left inside, giving the already winded Jojo a hard time as they did so. I picked up speed as I cut across the middle to assist her, reaching a little into my reserves of stamina. It was a pretty hot day, we had no subs to speak of, and the Flare had four extra girls sitting on their bench. So basically the Downpour were all winded, including Ella and I. Frankly, it kinda sucked.

But soccer is all about stepping up the play when you want to flop down and complain, so that's exactly what I did.

I kept a steady eye on the ball, watching it flicker between Emmie's blue cleats and Thirteen's white ones. Jojo's own black and silver cleats strained to keep up with the two Flare midfielders, but it was obvious she was tired from making her millions of break aways. I hurried over, shooting in front of the ball and watching as it rolled patiently between Thirteen's scuffed white cleats.

My first attempt to help Jojo didn't end up so well. Thirteen tapped the ball between her toes as I carefully approached, keeping wary and light on my feet. I did not relish the idea of being tricked by her again today.

Unfortunately, tricked was how I ended up. Seconds later, Thirteen pulled the same scissors move from before. I saw it coming, I swear— yet for some inexplicable reason, I fell for it again. She passed off to Emmie, and Jojo was left to gather up her strength and try to fend her off.

Anger started bubbling in my chest. Why could this girl mess with me so easily? I almost never fell for the same move twice, and almost never the same move pulled by the same person. I will admit I'm not perfect, but I tend to have a good instinct when it comes to pulling moves. Anybody I had ever played with would vouch for that… so why was I falling for this girl's fancy little scissors move now?

Okay, so now I was pissed.

As soon as I thought this, my mind clicked into hyper drive mode. It was as if my anger was helping to clear my senses instead of clouding them. I could suddenly feel every drop of sweat coating my nose, every hair blowing over my eyes, every stitch of my borrowed uniform. A wave of clarity washed over me, bringing strength back into my limbs as I did so. A slight breeze picked up, caressing my sweaty neck and cooling off my heated face. I smiled.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is what I like to call a second wind.

I sped up, targeting the ball at Emmie's feet. She was focused on keeping it out of Jojo's reach, and didn't notice I was approaching until it was too late. Thirteen let out a warning shout to her team mate, but it didn't save Emmie from getting the ball roughly revoked by none other than yours truly. I pulled the ball back out of Emmie's reach, dribbling it back up the field in the right direction.

Thirteen blocked my path, a grim look on her face as she focused her gaze on the ball under my own gold cleat. Switch of positions much? Less than a minute ago Thirteen had been standing like I was now, with me staring fervently at the ball in her possession.

I have to say I prefer this scenario more.

More than anything, I needed revenge on Thirteen. Revenge for juking me twice, and for stealing my number (maybe I should have cut her some slack considering she obviously didn't know it was my number… nah, I prefer to feel possessive and wronged).

So what was a better move to pull than Voldemort's Revenge?

I had practiced this move for hours when Fang taught it to me, ingraining the motions into my muscle memory until I literally performed the move in my sleep. I woke up sprawled on the rug, tangled in bed sheets and with an aching right hip from striking the floor. This meant that I could now pull a Voldemort's Revenge as easily as I could do a simple pull back. That 'whole Practice makes perfect' jazz actually has some reality in it.

Who knew?

As I stepped over the ball in the first part of Voldemort's Revenge, Thirteen shot at my left foot, almost tripping me before I whirled around in the other direction to continue the move. Thirteen went flying past me, and the end of her ponytail actually whipped my cheek as she tried unsuccessfully to turn around again. "What the hell?" she muttered. I grinned, finishing the move in triumph and spinning to dribble away. Revenge is sweet. Especially Voldemort's Revenge.

Oh, how I amuse myself. I smirked as I ran away, leaving Thirteen confused and angry behind me.

Wind rushed against my face, roaring in my ears as I beat against it to get to the Flare's goal. I could see Flo out of the corner of my right eye, and Sheila flanking me to the left. Victoria backpedaled swiftly among the Flare defense, her eyes on me as she maneuvered through their ranks, and Chloe was curving around the right sideline. It was show time.

The ball flitted between me and the rest of the Downpour offense as we advanced steadily towards the goal. It seemed like we were always flowing into the right spots: just the right place to receive a pass, the exact position to support the play. It was beautiful to be a part of, and we could tell Christie agreed from her vehement shouts of approval from the sideline.

Then Victoria had the ball inside the box, plowing straight through an outside Flare defender to get there. The sweeper blocked her, hazel eyes glittering with defiance as she faced off with our forward. Victoria didn't skip a beat, passing back to Flo. Flo received the pass well, but instantly shoved it off to me instead of taking a shot.

Why were we messing around like this in the goal box? My old coach had drilled it into our eleven-year-old heads that as soon as we passed the outer lines, we were supposed to shoot, shoot, shoot. He made it stick so much that it became automatic response to shoot the second we entered the goal box— so why couldn't these fourteen-year-old girls do the same?

I looked up for a moment, my eyes locked on the bleach-blonde goalie. Then, before the Flare defense could react and pressure me, I shot the ball in a hard, low pooch to the corner. The goalie dove, her yellow gloves flailing wildly for the ball as it skidded along the uneven grass. It was going in- I knew that as certainly as my own name. The ball was too low for her to get a hold of easily, and this was their back up goalie, anyway. She had already proven to us that she wasn't as good as the other one with her weak thirty footer of a punt and several fumbles and mistakes when she saved shots from Chloe, Sheila and Victoria earlier. It was goal number two for sure.

Then the ball bounced over a divot in the grass and flew straight into the goalie's waiting hands. She lay there, arms stretched over her head and gloves grasping the ball. There was the most startled look on her face, as if she couldn't believe that the ball was in her hands instead of nestled in the back of the net where it should have been. Slowly, the girl sat up and got to her feet, trotting to the edge of the goal box to punt it out.

Unbelievable.

I stood there like an idiot, utterly thrown by the fact that the damn field itself had just intervened and thwarted my goal.

"Shake it off, Max!" I heard Flo yell from somewhere to my right. "This field likes to fight back!"

Flo's voice worked in booting me out of my shock, but now I was just plain pissed again. "I hate grass fields," I growled, hurrying to run back down the field. The stupid goalie had the guts to grin and wave at me as I passed her. "Nice try, hotshot. Let's see you make the Downpour now," she sneered at me.

So she knew I was only trying out. The two teams did seem to know each others' players abnormally well, so I guessed this was normal.

But her comment still ticked me off.

I glanced over at the refs to check if anyone was looking, only to find that all of them were watching the play further down the field. Satisfied with this, I turned and flipped off the goalie. "Don't let one save get to your head," I advised her sweetly. "I'll be back soon- don't wait up for me dear." And with that, I poured on the speed and raced back towards the ball.

When the ref's whistle blew for half time, we all trooped back over to the sideline. Christie was waiting for us at the blue Downpour fold-out bench, tapping a clipboard and bearing an eerily similar resemblance to Anne.

I swear that I will track down their coach and find out how she managed to brainwash them do thoroughly.

"Good job, girls," she greeted us, smiling as we all collapsed over our bench. Fang was the only one sitting there, and he did his half-smile thing at me as I flopped beside him. "Great effort out there. Now get some fluids in you, it's a strangely hot day." No one complained at this order, each girl digging through their bags and producing some sort of water bottle. Christie stood over he us as we sipped slowly at our drinks, chatting and complaining about various fouls and actions of the Flare players.

"Did you see Kayla's foul on me? That was totally purposeful, and the ref just watched like nothing happened!"

"I know Chlo, don't worry about it. I'll beat up Kayla next chance I get."

"Thanks Tori. You're the best."

"Emmi is so on her period it's not even funny. She literally growled at me! A full on growl!"

"That's just creepy Garnet."

"I know, right?"

"Well Joan freaking backhanded me in the eye! I couldn't see out of it for like, two minutes!"

"I saw that! The ref was three feet away and didn't say a word!"

"These refs kinda suck. A lot."

"Girls, girls! Calm down!" Christie yelled, instantly quieting all eleven of us at once. "You know all too well that the Flare likes to push," she lectured, looking specifically at the two forwards who had been complaining. Then a mischievous smile crept onto her face, and Christie added, "You just have to push back."

While Christie continued to talk, Fang nudged me gently. "How are you liking the Downpour?" he asked quietly.

"I like the Downpour, but I dislike Thirteen on the Flare," I announced between sips of Gatorade.

Fang smirked. "I noticed," he replied, sounding amused. "You used Voldemort's Revenge on her. Nice execution, by the way."

"Thanks." I smiled at the compliment and downed another drink of Gatorade. "The guy who made it must be brilliant," I teased.

"He is," Fang agreed solemnly. "He's dashingly handsome and hilarious, also."

I snorted, but Christie interrupted before I could reply. "Fang, no matter how much Downpour loves you, we will kick you off the bench if you're distracting our lovely midfielder too much," she threatened.

I averted my eyes in embarrassment, but Fang just smiled at Christie. "I'll be good," he promised. "And I think I deserve some credit here— I taught her that move she used on number thirteen!"

Christie grinned back at him. "Good boy. Now don't talk to her while I'm talking," she ordered. Fang rolled his eyes jokingly, but fell silent as Christie continued with her speech.

The rest of the game flew by on wings. The Flare scored once in the third quarter to tie the game, keeping us all tense for awhile. Then, although I didn't get to keep my promise to the Flare backup goalie to come back and score on her, Victoria managed to get us another goal in the middle of the fourth quarter. The final score was 2-1, Downpour, which was a perfectly respectable score considering we were all dead on our feet at the end of the game.

Christie was beyond pleased with Ella and I, and although she had to hurry away to a dinner arrangement, she promised to call our mom later to talk more about joining the Downpour. When we tried to offer to give our uniforms back, she just wrinkled her nose and waved them off. "Wash them and give them to Nudge at school," she directed. "We don't need them immediately anyway."

The Downpour was very pleased with their victory over their rival team, and Cassie when declared a spontaneous ice cream trip in celebration, everyone instantly agreed. Everyone dispersed to their cars with promises to meet up at the nearest Baskin Robbins, all with huge smiles on their faces. Fang, Ella, Nudge and I all trooped across the field, heading towards where Mom had pulled the car up to wait for us. We were almost to the parking lot when someone rammed roughly into me. Unprepared, I stumbled sideways into Fang, who crashed into Nudge, who consequently bumped into Ella.

I turned to yell at the person, only to find two perpetrators. It was Thirteen and the backup goalie, both death glaring at us. "What do you want?" I spat at them, crossing my arms over my borrowed jersey.

Thirteen narrowed her eyes at me. "Your pretty little forward kicked our goalie in the face," she growled back.

"And I had to go in goal," Backup Goalie added, looking annoyed. "I hate playing goalie!"

"Well that sucks for you, Veronica," Nudge snarled, stepping forward to glare at Backup Goalie. "You're just lucky Chloe didn't mess up your face too! Oh wait, it's already ugly enough."

Veronica made a threatening move towards Nudge, which I instantly stepped forward and blocked, making her stumble away from my friend. "Don't argue with the truth," I told her sweetly.

Someone pushed me hard from behind, and I fell forward into Veronica, who shrieked in protest. I stumbled as I tried to regain my balance, turning to face my attacker.

It was Thirteen, obviously. She wasn't looking at me anymore though, because Nudge had just stepped up and slapped her hard across the face. "You bitch!" Thirteen snarled, holding a hand to her face. Her free hand shot out and slapped Nudge back. While I was watching this, Veronica reached over from behind me and yanked on my ponytail. I whirled around and slapped her too, making her head whip back with the force of my blow.

It was a full on chick fight now. Hair was getting pulled, cheeks slapped, shins kicked, (which was pretty ineffective since we were all still wearing shin guards) and chests elbowed. Fang and Ella seemed to be in shock, since they were just standing there watching us four fight with each other.

Then Thirteen shoved Nudge sideways, knocking her off balance and making her crash to the grass with a loud yell. I could have sworn I heard something crack, and Nudge started swearing emphatically. When I looked at her though, I could see tears of pain forming in her eyes.

I'm not sure precisely what happened next, but I was pissed beyond words now. This wasn't just normal soccer anger, the rush of the game and compettiom getting to my head. This was pure anger. Thirteen had hurt my friend.

The next thing I knew, Veronica was holding both hands to a very red cheek and I had Thirteen in a headlock on the ground. I was breathing hard, but Thirteen was breathing harder, her nails digging into my arm as she tried to struggle free.

"Cut it out," I growled, tightening my grip around her neck. Thirteen swore, but stopped scrabbling at my arms. "I want you and Miss Goalie over here to scram, okay?" I released her, and Thirteen instantly rolled away, holding a hand to her neck as she stared at me. "You heard me. Beat it!" I snapped, startling both Flare players. Thirteen jumped up, and with one last angry look at me, grabbed Veronica's arm and tugged her away. I watched them leave, glaring at their backs until they disappeared from sight.

When I turned back around, Fang and Ella were kneeling beside Nudge, who was curled up on the grass. She was no longer swearing, but her skin was pale under her dark complexion and sweat was beading on her temple. Both eyes were screwed shut, and on closer inspection I realized she was tightly clutching her right arm.

I could feel Fang's gaze on me, but it was impossible for me to tear my eyes away from Nudge to look back at him. "I think it's broken," he informed me quietly. Nudge whimpered, curling into a smaller ball. Ella just stroked the small, sweaty curls that had struggled free of Nudge's headband back from her forehead and stayed silent.

The anger drained out of me, and I simply stood there, staring at Nudge. "We should get her to the emergency room," Fang continued calmly, looking back down at Nudge. He was seemingly the only coherent being in this situation, seeing as Ella appeared to be in shock and I was too tired and upset to say or do anything. "I'll call my dad and ask him if he can get us through the waiting room quickly," Fang added, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. "Having a doctor in the mix ends to make things work faster."

That's right. Fang's dad was a doctor. I numbly nodded, watching as he dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. While Fang talked, Ella seemed to come back to life. She gently pushed Nudge up into a sitting position and looked up at me. Ella stayed silent, but I knew the question in her eyes. She was fully aware I was stronger than her, and seeing as Fang was occupied with his phone call, I needed to be the one to carry Nudge. I nodded in reply, bending down and sliding my arms under her knees and back. I braced myself, then with great effort straightened and staggered to my feet, cradling Nudge to me for balance. I started carefully towards the car, doing my best not to jostle Nudge or her injured arm. Ella tapped Fang on the shoulder, and he turned around to see me carrying Nudge to the parking lot. His eyebrows shot up, and he hurried forward, phone still to his ear, to try and take her from me.

I refused to let Nudge go, glaring at Fang until he stepped back. "You take care of the phone call, and I'll get Nudge to the car," I whispered fiercely. Fang gave me a skeptical look, and I narrowed my eyes at him further. "And I am strong enough, so don't you dare give me that look, Rianild," I added waspishly. "Just talk to your dad."

Fang gave me one last look, his expression unreadable, before returning to his phone call. "Hey Dad, it's Fang," he said into the phone. "Nudge had an accident and I was wondering…"

I didn't listen anymore as I toted Nudge to the car. Ella came with me, watching in front of me so I didn't walk into an obstacle or stumble in one of the divots of the uneven grass. When we finally made it to the car, Ella climbed into the backseat first, helping me to pull Nudge carefully onto the middle seat and strap her in. She was more coherent now, and bit her lip in pain as she watched us buckle her seatbelt.

"What happened to Nudge?" Mom demanded, twisting in her seat to inspect Nudge's arm. Nudge looked up at her, her brown eyes now wide with pain. Mom stopped short mid-interrogation, her shocked expression softening with sympathy.

"Fang thinks it's broken," Ella said quietly, speaking for the first time in five minutes.

"Where is Fang?" Mom asked in confusion. One moment we were all happy and fine, and the next one of us disappeared and another has a broken arm. "And Max, what happened to you?"

I looked up from where I had been staring blankly at Nudge's arm, startled by the mention of my name. "What?" I asked dumbly.

"Your face, and hair, and the jersey!" Mom clarified, looking concerned. "You look like you were in a fight!"

"That's because she was," Fang answered for me, slipping into the front seat of the car. "Dr. M, would you mind taking us to the emergency room? My dad is calling ahead to get us through quicker."

I winced. I had been desperately hoping we could forget to mention the part about the fight and fabricate some other story instead— one that did not include me hitting anybody. But it was too late now, and Fang didn't know what he was getting me into anyway. It wasn't his fault.

Mom automatically started the car, but she still looked extremely confused and starting to get angry as she pulled quickly out of the parking lot. "Maximum Riesra Ride, were you in a fight?" she asked, her voice gaining a dangerous edge as her fingers clenched tightly on the steering wheel.

"Yes," I confirmed in a quiet, clipped tone, keeping my eyes fixed on Nudge.

"I thought you had learned your lesson," Mom observed, obviously trying hard to keep calm.

"I did learn my lesson!" I snapped. "They started it-"

"But would I be incorrect to guess that you finished it?" Mom interrupted.

I fell silent.

"That's what I thought," Mom said finally, her voice hard and tinged with a drop of disappointment. Guilt clawed at my stomach, and anger and frustration simultaneously roiled beside it. "Max, you're grounded for three weeks."

I didn't try to argue.

"Dr. M, Max was just protecting Nudge. She doesn't deserve to be grounded for helping her friend, does she?"

My gaze snapped up to stare incredulously at Fang. He didn't appear to notice, since he was busy looking at my mom instead. He shouldn't argue. He doesn't know her reasoning. Heck, I had forgotten what her reasoning might have been until just now. That memory had been successfully buried for so long, but now it had just been uprooted.

Great.

Mom shook her head tightly, and I quickly looked back down at Nudge. "I appreciate your support for Max, but it's a fitting punishment and she knows it," Mom replied, driving as fast as the speed limit allowed.

I could feel Fang's gaze shift to me, but I pretended not to realize he was waiting for me to explain. The rest of the ride to the ER passed in a tense silence.

After what felt like eons later, we finally arrived at the emergency room. Fang offered to carry Nudge in this time., but she decided she wanted to stay on her feet. Ella threaded her arm under Nudge's shoulders and helped support her that way as we all hurried inside the big white building.

When we rushed up to the desk, a lady in white ushered us through standard emergency room procedure. Fang, Ella and I waited impatiently as the lady inquired all sorts of random information and handed Mom a clipboard of paperwork to fill out. Personally, I was all for making the answers up now and dealing with the consequences later, but Mom firmly shot down that suggestion.

Thanks to Fang's hotshot doctor of a dad, though, Nudge was accepted in much more quickly than she might have been. We let the nurses hurry her away, watching as she disappeared through the white swinging door. I fell into one of the waiting room chairs, barely noticing Fang and Ella sit down on either sides of me. Mom settled down in a chair across from us, pulling out her cell phone to notify Nudge's parents of the accident.

Ella picked up a fashion magazine from the table next to her and started to look through it, but I knew she wasn't really paying attention. Usually Ella would spend up to ten minutes examing each page, exclaiming on someone's eyeshadow and critiquing their choice of clothing or avidly poring over an article. However, now she was just flicking through it, obviously too upset to read.

"Do you want to go get cleaned up, Max?" Fang's voice broke me out of my thoughts, and I turned to look at him. His eyes were filled with concern and confusion, and I had to forcibly restrain myself from blurting out an explanation that wouldn't even make sense to him.

'Cause I'm smooth like that.

I blame his eyes— they wreck my self discipline. Therefore, instead of revealing one of my best-kept secrets ever to the entire waiting room, I looked away from those eyes and asked a more harmless question. "Do I really look that bad?"

Fang smirked slightly and reaches over to pick up my hand. He squeezes it teasingly, but I could tell he was still distracted. I didn't blame him— I was too. I couldn't erase the image of Nudge clutching her arm from my head. "You should have seen the other girl's face when you got her in that headlock," he replied. "Remind me never to tick you off, Max."

I grinned at his praise. "Will do," I assure him. I turn to my sister next. "Want to help me find a bathroom to clean up, Ells?" I offer.

Ella throws down the magazine and leaps from her chair, obviously relieved to have something to do. "Of course," she agrees. "Let's go."

We ended up having to ask the lady at the front desk where the bathroom was, but we eventually found our way there. I pushed open the door, Ella following as I started inside. "So basically I-" I started to speak, but was cut off by the abrupt appearance of something extremely shocking.

My reflection.

Hair is straggling out of my ponytail in clumps and wisps, draping over my eyes and slicked back by sweat on the top. Dirt is streaked liberally across my borrowed blue jersey, and my arms are scratched and dirty too. My cheeks are still pink from being slapped by the Flare girls. The worst part, though, is the blood crusted on the corner of my lower lip.

I do look like I've been in a fight.

I just stared at my reflection in the mirror for awhile, memories flashing through my head. I remembered Mike, Jack, Darla, and Omega… they were screaming as they fought, trying to land a blow and dodge my own at the same time. None of them succeeded.

"Max? Max! Snap out of it, you're scaring me!" Ella's terrified voice snapped me from my reverie, and I quickly averted my eyes from the mirror. "Max, are you okay?" Ella asked breathlessly, obviously deeply alarmed.

I wondered how long I had been zoning out. "I'm fine, Ella," I assure her. "I just spaced out for a sec."

Ella doesn't look convinced, but I'm too drained to try and think up a better lie. I hurried to the sink and started washing the dirt and blood off my face, letting the cool water wake me up more. There wasn't much I could do to clean my jersey, but I did shake out my hair and pull it into a more respectable ponytail. At least I looked halfway decent instead of like a gang fighter.

When Ella and I came back to the waiting room, Nudge's mom had arrived and was sitting with our mom. Fang sat quietly across from them, looking like he would rather be anywhere but here. Ella and I plopped back down in our previous chairs beside him, watching Tanya and Mom talk. Tanya looked exceedingly worried, and her forehead was heavily creased.

"Nudge has osteoporosis," Tanya explained, clutching the handle of her purse as if it were her only life line. Her knuckles were starting to turn white. "She breaks bones really easily— she's broken her ankle, both arms, and a few fingers and toes already."

"That is a lot of injuries," Ella observed, looking worried at this new information. That was a lot of bones broken for a fourteen year old girl.

Fang nodded, resignation apparent on his face. "I was there for most of the breaks," he replied, his eyes locked on the door Nudge had disappeared through. "She broke a couple skiing, her ankle and a toe playing soccer, an arm falling off the monkey bars in third grade…" he trailed off.

"Isn't osteoporosis usually a disease older people get?" I asked, watching Tanya's face. "I thought that it was more of a 'your bones growing weaker with age' type of thing."

Tanya nodded. "It usually is," she agreed, "but my family has a long history of osteoporosis, and Nudge's bones were never particularly strong to begin with. She's also a lot lighter than she should be for her height, which contributed to the osteoporosis taking effect." Tanya paused, looking slightly regretful. "And when we lived in Colorado, Nudge had a vitamin D deficiency to boot. She's just got abnormally light and frail bones. Her father wants her to quit soccer, but I know that's not going to happen no matter how many bones she breaks." Tanya tried to look disapproving, but I could tell she was actually proud of Nudge's perserverance. It was a Mom thing I'd picked up on my radar years ago.

"Tanya Yolinta?" a nurse called from the the door. She shifted uneasily under Fang's intense gaze, which had been originally aimed at the door itself. Fang smirked, and I elbowed him as we all stood up to answer the nurse's call.

The nurse raised an eyebrow at our large party, but didn't say anything as she led us down a white, sterile hallway. I stiffened slightly at the doctor's office smell, but tried not to let my discomfort show on my face. I was here for Nudge.

The nurse ushered us into a small, blue room where Nudge and a woman wearing a long white coat were waiting. Nudge was propped against the wall with a splint on her right arm and an ice pack strapped over it. She smiled weakly at us when we entered. "Hi guys," she greeted us feebly, lifting her good hand in a little wave.

The doctor got straight down to business. She pointed at an x-ray pinned to a light screen, outlining something with the tip of her ballpoint pen. "Monique has a distal radius extra articular fracture," the doctor informed us, gesturing to the x-ray behind her.

Mom and Fang nodded like they understand, but Ella, Tanya and I were left in the dark on this one. We weren't veternarians or sons of doctors, after all. That entire sentence made no sense to me. "Would you mind translating that into English?" I asked after a moment of silence. Ella nodded vigorously, and Tanya smiled a bit.

"She broke her wrist," the doctor summarized, smiling at us.

"Oh." That made more sense.

"I've splinted her arm for now, and next week she should go to her doctor and have a hard cast applied," the doctor continued. "Monique is very lucky it was just the bone and not the joint."

Nudge smiles sheepishly, fingering her ice pack.

"How long is the recovery?" Tanya asked, toying restlessly with the fringe of her jacket.

"About four to six weeks," the doctor replied.

"You're out for six weeks then," Tanya decided, turning to face her daughter. "No soccer for that long."

Nudge springs up from her slouch, looking horrified. "But Mom, it's my wrist!" she protested. "I don't need my wrist to play soccer! I can play again as soon as the hard cast is off, which is like, four weeks!"

Tanya's eyes narrowed, and she actually shook her finger at Nudge. "No arguing," she snaps. "No soccer for six weeks at the very least."

Nudge slumped back against the wall, disappointment scrawled across her face. "The season will be over by then," she moaned.

"Actually, since we have a week of break next week, we still have another month and a half of games," Ella pointed out. "If you drink your milk and don't re-injure your wrist, maybe you'll be back for the finals."

Nudge perked up a little at this, smiling gratefully at Ella. "Thanks Ella," she said quietly.

"Well, she's all ready to go now," the doctor continued, breaking the silence that had formed. "Pick up your medicene prescription at the front and arrange your next appointment for the hard cast," she directed. With one last smile, she slipped out of the room.

Ella and I helped Nudge to her feet, and we all followed Tanya back out to the front desk. While we're waiting for her to get her paperwork, Nudge's phone buzzed from its nook tucked in Fang's pocket. We all looked up as Fang fished it out, handing the phone to Nudge.

"Thanks," she offered to Fang as he gave her back the phone.

"No prob. You made me carry it for too long though, so I refuse to take it back again," he warned her teasingly.

Nudge rolled her eyes, unlocking her phone and looking down at her new text message. She started to giggle, and we all looked over at her inquisitively. "Garnet texted me," Nudge explained, still grinning. "She's wondering why we aren't at ice cream with the rest of the team!"

Ella and I grinned back, while Fang just looked vaguely amused. "Will she be surprised if you tell her we got in a fight with chicks from the Flare and kicked their butts, but you broke your wrist in the process?" I asked teasingly.

Nudge sobered slightly at this, and sighs reluctantly. "Sadly, she won't," she admits. "Breaking bones is practically classified as a bad habit of mine on the Downpour."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Smooth, Nudge," I replied. "You're just about as smooth as sandpaper."

Nudge shrugged, looking resigned. "I have a reputation," she explained condescendingly, not a hint of a smile visible on her face. "It's been almost two years since I broke my ankle— I was due for another break soon anyway."

I stared at her. "You're joking, right?" Ella asked a second later, voicing my thoughts.

Nudge shook her head. "Nope," she announced, popping the 'p'.

"That is pathetic," I declared. "Why am I friends with you again?"

Nudge batted her eyelashes at me. "I'm amazingly beautiful and charming," she assured me. "And funny and kind and caring and—"

Nudge was cut off by accidentally tripping over one of the laces on her cleats, almost crashing down onto her broken wrist. Luckily, Fang grabbed her left arm just in time, bracing her until she could stand properly again. "And graceful," I added sweetly. "Pathetic, Nudge dearie."

Nudge simply snorted at my abuse. "What's pathetic is the way you stare at Fang," she retorted.

My horrifically cruel sister Ella actually laughed at the open-mouthed expression on my face. "Nudge 1, Max 0," she announced with a grin.

Fang just smirked that oh so annoying smirk of his, giving me a knowing look.

Why do I hang out with these people?****

Okay, so crap ending… but it's a chapter, right? I'm really tired right now… there's A LOT on my plate… =(

If you would review then that would help cheer me up a lot! =D I love you all!

The most epic thing I've seen recently? I tried to spell 'open' on my iPod and spellcheck changed it to ipwn. Sorry, just had to share. XD

~TMI~


	33. Richie Reynolds Revealed

**I've written this story for over a year. Wow. I truly think this is the main cause of my writing improving. Thank you to all of you faithful readers who have been here for so long!**

**The last chapter was riddled with thousands of mistakes, mostly cause I'm reading a bunch of present-tense fics and I started forgetting how to write past tense. XD whoops! I'll go fix those eventually.**

**Btw, to clear some things up. Riesra is pronounced Ree-ESS-rah. Rianild is pronounced REE-ah-nihld. Does that help any?**

It was Monday afternoon, and I was in the emergency room again for the second day in a row. What was with these people I live with? They break like twigs all of a sudden!

But I'm getting ahead of myself now.

Monday morning started out utterly normally.

"GET OUT OF THE DAMN BATHROOM ELLA!" I rammed into the door with my hip, but it did nothing except rattle on it's hinges and hurt my hip. Damn. I had a bruise there still from landing on it yesterday during the Downpour game.

This just furthered my bad temper.

"MAKE ME!" Ella yelled back, her voice echoing from those strange acoustics every bathroom seems to have.

"YOU'LL REGRET THAT CHALLENGE, KNAVE!" I threatened, hammering on the door again. This time though, I spared my poor hip and used my fists to pound instead. The wooden barrier still refused to budge.

Damn door. It was almost as stubborn as I was.

"MAX! STOP YELLING AT YOUR SISTER!" Mom joined the argument, somewhat hypocritically screaming up at us from downstairs in the kitchen.

"BUT I NEED TO SHOWER!" I howled back, driving my fist into the door. I succeeded in nothing but turning the side of my hand pink and sending a sharp pain through my wrist. Perfect. Now my hip and my hand hurt. Fan-freaking-tastic.

That's when my sister said those fateful words.

"CALM DOWN, MAX! I'M DOING MY MAKEUP IN HERE!"

Oh dear lord. She was hogging the bathroom for that? No way, not in my book sister dearest.

"NOT FOR LONG YOU AREN'T!"

Then I rammed into the door for the thirtieth time. All I was really doing was desperately attempting to force Ella into opening it through pure annoyance at the disturbance of the door banging every five seconds. This time, however, instead of just rattling loudly on its hinges, the door actually did splinter. A long crack flashed into being where my hip met wood, and as the door cracked further I could clearly see Ella's horrified face through the hole. We stared at each other silently, both shocked that I actually managed to carry out my threats to break down the door.

Well then. I can now officially say I've succeeded in becoming a human battering ram.

"MOM, MAX BROKE THE DOOR!" Ella, ever the squealer, screamed. I scowled at her, but the damage was done.

"SHE DID WHAT?"

I winced at the incredulous anger in Mom's voice. "I PLEAD THE FIFTH!" I yelled back.

Yeah, it was a totally normal morning.

I was grounded for an additional week for breaking the bathroom door, making my punishment for both fighting and breaking the door a grand total of three weeks long. Yippee. Mom was kind of pissed at me for already breaking something in our new house after only about two months, so I figured I was lucky she only grounded me one week extra. Ella and I scarfed down a quick breakfast, grabbed our lunches off the counter, and sprinted out the door.

And I never even got to take my shower, either.

When we arrived at school, there was a large crowd gathered around Nudge, who was seated on a wooden bench. I recognized a couple of Downpour players —Cassie and Jojo—, Terra, JJ, Gazzy, and Fang, but no one else out of the remaining ten lasses and laddies. I always forgot how popular Nudge was— she seemed to be friends with everyone in the ninth grade.

"Dude, you're an idiot," Terra proclaimed, examining the black splint strapped to Nudge's right wrist.

Nudge shrugged. "I prefer to think I have a talent for hurting myself," she replied primly.

"Sucky talent, if you ask me," Garnet remarked. "What did Christie say?"

Nudge grimaced at the mention of her coach. "I haven't told her yet," she admitted. "I'm kind of afraid of her reaction."

"She'll probably just yell at you for a few minutes and then go convince your mom to let you come to practice still," one of the unrecognizable girls commented. "Isn't that what she did when you broke your fingers?"

Nudge shrugged. "Maybe," she replied doubtfully. "My mom was kinda ticked off that I was in a fight and everything. I don't think she'll listen to Christie again."

The girl nodded. "Christie will try anyway," she reminded Nudge. I stared at the girl for a moment, wondering if I had played with her yesterday and somehow manage to forget her already. On closer inspection, I realized she was wearing a Downpour sweatshirt, blue with a white '6' emblazoned on the back.

Fang was the first to notice our approach. He offered Ella a quick half-smile, which she returned, before turning to me. "Hey Max," he greeted me quietly, smiling softly as he reached out and picked up my hand.

I smiled at the easy gesture, squeezing his fingers slightly. "Hi," I replied. "You'll never guess what I did this morning." Ella snorted, rolling her eyes and turning to start a conversation with Terra.

"Broke down the bathroom door?" Fang guessed, a sly little smirk playing on his lips as he observed my gaping expression.

"How did you guess?" I demanded, shocked that he had actually figured it out, and on his first try no less.

"I could hear Ella screaming at you from my house," he informed me, his smirk growing. "It was really funny, actually."

"You could hear Ella screaming from three blocks away," I clarified. Fang nodded, watching my expression change from astonishment to incredulity. "How could you possibly hear that?" I demanded. "That's practically inhuman!"

Fang shrugged. "I dunno. I've always had good hearing," he replied dismissively. "How did you manage to break it anyway?"

I grinned at him, remembering this morning's events. "I was hip-checking the door because Ella was inside doing her makeup and taking forever and I wanted to speed up the process," I explained, "and the next time I hit it it just cracked down the middle. Next thing I know, I'm staring straight through it at Ella."

"Only you, Max," Fang said finally, shaking his head in mock despair. I bumped his shoulder in return, not really trying to hurt him but still wanting to retaliate. We grinned at each other, both aware of my thought process.

It's nice when your best friend/boyfriend can practically read your mind: misunderstanding each other was almost impossible.

"OH MY GOD ARE YOU TWO FINALLY TOGETHER?"

Fang and I jumped simultaneously, dropping each other's hands and springing away until there was no less than four feet between us. I snapped my head towards the sound, my heart pounding with sudden adrenaline at the screeching and my body poised in a fighting position. Were we under attack or something?

A blonde streak slammed into me, squeezing my ribs until I literally couldn't breathe. I gasped in a tiny amount of air, trying to squeak out a protest of some sort. No noise passed my lips.

I think I might prefer being attacked over being Terra-ed.

"HOLY FREAKING PILLSBURY DOUGHBOY, FANG WAS SOOOO JUST HOLDING YOUR HAND ARE YOU GOING OUT NOW HUH HUH HUH?" Terra screamed, swinging me back and forth in her death grip. She didn't seem to care that at least eighteen people had turned to stare at her little display. That was Terra for you.

"Terra," I tried to gasp out.

She didn't appear to hear me. "Did he ask you out? What happened? Oh my gosh, I am so excited I can't wait to see Lissa's reaction this is going to rule!" Terra gushed, wringing me forward and backward in her arms. My head rolled around precariously on my neck, and I swear I felt it crack at least once.

"Terra," I tried again, struggling to break free of her grip. Why had that strength I had yesterday decided to vanish now? Bad timing for a vacation, much?

"This is so cute! I mean, Fang was holding your hand and you were smiling at him and he was actually smiling back! He doesn't smile like that at anyone! It's adorable!" Terra squealed, jumping up and down and consequently jiggling me up and down with her.

Okay, that was it. I was done with the screaming. I gathered up as much strength as my oxygen-deprived body could offer, and with one Herculean effort managed to burst free of Terra's vicelike grip. Sweet freedom!

"Terra, calm down," I ordered, gingerly rubbing my ribs. "Nudge is rubbing off on you. You might want to see a doctor about that." Ignoring Nudge's squeals of protest, I plowed on. The sooner it was over with, the sooner things would go back to normal. "Yes, Fang and I are dating. Calm yourself down already, okay?"

Terra didn't look calm in the vaguest possible meaning of the word. On the contrary, she looked about ready to explode into a song and dance routine worthy of a Glee episode heralding Fang and I and our new relationship.

Frankly, I wouldn't have put it past her at that point.

Thankfully, Gazzy chose this moment to interrupt. "Good job," he informed Fang, clapping him on the back. "See where letting emotion show gets you in life?"

Fang just smiled in response.

"So Veronica and Maya did this to you?" asked the girl in the number six Downpour sweatshirt, pointing at Nudge's splint. Everyone turned back to my crippled friend, and I was exceedingly glad for the change of subject. Thank you, Six. I owe you one.

"Yeah, Maya pushed me over," Nudge replied, anger creasing her forehead for a moment. "Veronica started the whole thing though— she had to play goalie 'cause Chloe took out Jenna," she explained, "So Veronica was mad about that and Maya was mad that Max managed to juke her so badly."

Number Six scowled. "Veronica and Maya are the worst sports I've ever had the misfortune to meet," she announced, looking disgusted. "I'm mad I wasn't there to teach them a lesson."

Nudge laughed, grinning at Six. "It's okay Daph, Max was there to protect me this time," she assured her. "By the way, Max, Ella, this is Daphne," she continued, turning to face Ella and I. "Daph, this is Ella and Max. Daphne plays goalie for Downpour. Ella and Max are both on the Lynxes," Nudge introduced us, waving between the three of us with her good arm as we scrutinized each other.

Daphne was a tall girl, tan with big, expressive hazel eyes and dark brown hair cascading down her back in long glossy sheets. A white scarf adorned her neck despite the warm weather, and she wore skinny jeans and boots besides her Downpour sweatshirt. Altogether, she looked like one of the preppier girls Nudge hung out with, but decent enough.

"You played with Downpour yesterday, right?" Daphne asked finally.

"Yeah," Ella confirmed, smiling at her. "We really like the team."

Daphne smiled, tugging at the fringe on her scarf. "We're pretty awesome, aren't we?" she said jokingly. "I was sick yesterday, and I can still barely breathe 'cause my throat hurts so much." She gestured at her scarf, twirling the end around one finger.

"We missed you in goal, Daph," Jojo remarked. "Annelise did great in goal, but you could have stopped the one goal Flare managed to get in. It was a high shot, and Annelise is like, five inches shorter than you."

Daphne shrugged. "You still managed to pound them," she pointed out reasonably. "Come on Nudge, let's get you to class," she continued, helping Nudge up off the bench she was sitting on. "We have to figure out how to teach you to write left handed before the three page in-class essay in English."

Nudge paled. "Crap that's today?" she asked nervously. "I thought it was next week! I can't write left handed!"

"I'm left handed," Gazzy piped up, grinning at Nudge. "I can teach you. It's not hard."

"It's not hard for you 'cause you're left handed!" Nudge retorted, flipping her hair at him dramatically. "I'm right handed! I can't use my left hand for anything! It's a useless appendage!"

"Well, you better learn to write with it, or it's going to be a long six weeks," Gazzy replied mischievously.

"I hate you," Nudge declared, glaring up at Gazzy.

"You love me," Gazzy corrected with a roguish grin. "You love me so much that where other girls have posters of Taylor Lautner, you have my picture on your walls, Nudge."

"That is a frightening thought. Just go away Gaz," Nudge groaned. Gazzy snickered one more time before disappearing off towards the locker hallway.

"We should all get to class," Cassie decided, standing up and adjusting her grip on her binder. Slowly, the crowd dispersed to their classes, and Fang and I were left standing there by ourselves.

"I need to put my stuff away," I stated, starting towards my locker. Fang shrugged, following along behind me.

He leaned against his own locker as I twiddled the dial on mine, watching while I pulled various binders and books out and stuffed the rest of the junk in my locker. When I had finished with this daily little task, we set off towards homeroom together.

At this point, if someone wanted to portray me as a book character, they should have chosen Lord Voldemort. I was feeling very evil and gleeful as I sat down at the desk Fang and I shared, keeping my eyes glued to the door.

He nudged my shoulder, looking vaguely amused at the no doubt childishly eager expression on my face. "What are you so happy about?" Fang asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

I only grinned in reply. "You'll see," I said mysteriously, flicking my hair off my shoulder in a single dramatic movement. Ella always did say I would be a great actress.

Fang just looked at me. "Why did I ask you out again?" he murmured to himself, looking torn between exasperation and the urge to laugh.

"Because I'm amazing?" I suggested. "And beautiful and wonderful and epic at soccer and you would die if I had to move again?"

Fang looked thoughtful for a moment. "Nah," he decided finally, a mischievous little smirk creeping onto his face. "I think it's just 'cause Christie is already married."

My jaw dropped, but before I could yell/threaten to kill him/pull his hair like a second grader in revenge, the announcements crackled on. Simultaneously, none other than Lissa-tissa-bitchissa sauntered into the room. She lazily handed Ms. James a late pass and glided up the aisle between the desks, her eyes riveted solely on Fang.

She completely ignored David in the seat next to her as she gracefully sat down in her chair and turned to face Fang instead. Lissa smiled a predator's smile, twisting a red lock of hair between her perfectly polished fingers. "Hey Fang," she purred, not even casting me a glance. "How was your weekend?"

Fang actually turned in his seat to check my reaction. From the sudden tensing of his arms, I could hypothesize that he expected me to leap across the desk and strangle Lissa where she sat.

Jeez. I'm not that violent.

Instead I smiled, docile as a lamb, and laced my fingers together in my lap. It was no use wasting my energy on these petty sparklers. I was waiting for the real fireworks to begin.

"Umm, good I guess," Fang replied slowly, looking cautiously between Lissa and me. I could tell he was a little confused by my silence, but he hid it well.

"That's great!" Lissa gushed, flashing him a pearly white smile and fluffing her hair with one hand. "Mine was kinda boring… I mean, I'm single and my friends were all busy. What was I supposed to do?" Lissa sighed, a little too dramatically in my humble opinion. She seemed to be stressing the 'single' point in her comment, as if inviting Fang to ask her out then and there.

"Read a book?" Fang suggested, his face completely serious.

Lissa pouted. "Books are boring," she announced pettishly. "I need human contact!" Her hand started inching towards Fang's arm. I watched its progress, feeling dangerously close to breaking my promise to my mom not to get in any more fights for the rest of my life.

Fang's eyes were also locked on Lissa's hand, but he seemed more wary and indifferent than anything. "If you want human contact you should talk to David," Fang informed Lissa blankly. David half turned at the sound of his name, but instantly faced front again upon seeing the deadly look on Lissa's face.

"But Fang," she whined, all anger on her face instantly melting into sugar as she attempted to seduce my boyfriend. "I want contact with you." Her hand reached Fang's arm at last, the sparkling, bright blue nails stroking his skin.

I coughed loudly into my elbow, my gaze boring poisonously into Lissa's head. She finally glanced in my direction, looking annoyed. "Did you say something, Maxi?" she asked, her voice falsley sweet.

At the sound of the nickname, my mind instantly flashed back to Sam. I grimaced at the painful memory, but quickly turned the frown into my own sugary smile. Lissa had only succeeded in egging on my anger at her with using that despicable name. "I just wanted to let you know that I don't appreciate you hitting on my boyfriend right in front of me," I simpered, smiling widely as I waited for her to process this.

And with that simple sentence, the fireworks began.

Lissa's green eyes widened in shock, and she visibly tightened her grip on Fang's arm. "You are so not talking about Fang," she hissed, her voice cutting through the background noise of the announcements like hot steel through butter.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I am so talking about Fang," I hissed back. With one swift movement, I wrenched her hand off of Fang's arm and threw it roughly back towards her.

Lissa glared at me, open mouthed with shock and fury. "You bitch!" she exclaimed, shoving her chair backwards and standing up.

"Lissa! No swearing!" Ms. James reprimanded from the front of the room, her face plain with disapproval.

Lissa paid the teacher no attention, focusing all of her anger on me instead. "You stole him from me!" she accused loudly, her furious voice now high and shrill, clearly audible above the announcements' low drone.

Now it was my turn to push back my chair and stand up. I was only half aware of the dozens of eyes trained in high interest on Lissa and me. Blood was rushing in my ears, and I was starting to get pretty pissed. "Stole him from you?" I demanded, setting my hands on my hips. "You weren't even still dating him when I got here! He doesn't like you anymore!"

Fang sat immobile in his chair, his eyes trained on me and his face in its normal expressionless state. Lissa didn't spare him a glance, leaning forward on our desk and glaring at me viciously. "You slut," she growled, "You pretended to be his friend just so you could hook up with him and take him away from me!"

I snorted at her. "The world doesn't revolve around you, sweetie, and Fang is my best friend," I retorted. "He just happens to also be my boyfriend now."

Low wolf whistles resounded around the room, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Fang fighting to withold a smile at my words. I let my own satisfied grin slide onto my face, raising a challenging eyebrow at Lissa.

Lissa dearest, on the other hand, was not amused. "You bitch!" she screamed again. Then, before I could register the movement, she lunged forward across the desk and slapped me across the face.

"Lissa Rift!" Ms. James cried from the front of the room. No one turned to look at her, all attention riveted on me.

I stood there for a moment, completely stunned. Then I started to feel the stinging on my cheek, and a low buzz of pain filled my ears. I narrowed my eyes at her, trying desperately to stay calm and not murder Lissa in front of a whole room of witnesses.

Then she smiled at me in the most aggravating way possible. "Don't lie to me honey," she told me sweetly. "I can tell you're trying to mess with me."

I stayed silent, balling my hands into fists. Keep calm, keep cal-

"I mean, why would Fang ever date you? You're practically a boy— boy name, boy clothes, and boy looks. You're not pretty, you're obviously a total wannabe, and the only thing you ever seem to do is play soccer," Lissa sneered.

I can keep my cool. Insults don't bother me. Insults will never hurt me.

"And now you're just standing there like an idiot," Lissa jeered. "And it's obvious stupidity runs in the family! I mean, look at your sister!"

Oh, she so did not just insult Ella. That tore it. I didn't care what she said about me, but no one trash talked my little sister and got away with it.

Before I knew what was happening, I had sprang across the desk and grabbed Lissa. She cried out shrilly as I twisted her arms behind her back, forcing her down to smash against the desktop. Lissa was breathing heavily, her hair splayed across her face as she tried to wriggle out of my headlock.

"Don't mess with my sister," I told her, my voice deadly calm. The classroom was silent, even the background noise of the announcements finally gone. "No one insults my sister in front of me. No. One. You hear?"

Lissa whimpered pathetically.

"The only time I'm a bitch is when you try to step on my family, Lissa," I informed her sweetly, tightening my grip on her arms. "And for the record, soccer is a perfectly acceptable pastime, one I'm sure is beyond your capability."

"Lissa Rift and Maximum Ride!" Ms. James yelled, her voice booming and sounding slightly strangled. Everyone jumped except for Fang and I, whirling to look at the teacher, pale faced with anger. "Go to the office! Now! Max, let go of Lissa or you will be suspended!"

I instantly dropped Lissa's arms, backing away as Lissa struggled to right herself. I silently picked up my binder, and with one last look at Fang, walked out of the room.

I could hear Lissa trailing behind me, her heels clicking loudly on the empty tile floors. We didn't speak the entire trip to the office, and I didn't wait for her before going up to the front desk.

The secretary, a lady named Ms. Jean, looked up, narrowing her eyes as she spotted my slapped cheek. "What's the problem?" she asked carefully, looking between me and Lissa, who had just walked up behind me.

"Ms. James sent us here," I said quietly, tightening my grip on my binder. Two fights in two days: my mom was going to kill me.

Ms. Jean's eyes lit with recognition, and she nodded towards a door off to the side. "Go in there," she directed. "Mr. Reynolds will be there shortly to talk with you two."

We obeyed silently, slinking in the door marked "GUIDANCE COUNSELOR".

The room was deserted, so we had plenty of time to scrutinize it. There was a leather rolling chair and a big wooden desk at the back of the room. The desk's surface was surprisingly messy, and littered with piles and piles of papers, a laptop, and what looked suspiciously like half of a Subway sandwich. A bronze name plaque was propped against a jar of pencils, reading out 'RICHARD M. REYNOLDS' in bold black capitals. There were several large gray filing cabinets and a wide, overstuffed bookshelf ringing the perimeter of the room, and a couple framed pictures hung on the walls. Thankfully, there were no crappy motivational posters in sight, which gave me a bit of hope about Mr. Reynolds. Two red cushioned chairs were placed in front of the desk, and I plopped down in one to wait. Out of pure boredom, I glanced towards the big silver clock mounted on the wall, wondering what time it was. The little hand was pointing at the eight and the other pointing at the four.

8:20 AM and I'm already in the guidance counselor's office. I'm such a great kid.

And won't my mother be proud?

"Hello, sorry for the delay! I had to run to the Seven Eleven down the street to pick something up." The voice came from behind us, and both Lissa and I whirled to look at the speaker.

A tall man walked in, grinning at us as he gestured to the box of powdered donuts in his hand. He looked young: there was no gray in his neat brown hair, and the lopsided smile on his face didn't cross paths with any worry lines. "I'm Mr. Reynolds," he introduced himself, walking over and settling himself in the leather rolling chair. "And you two lovely ladies are?"

"Lissa," Lissa muttered defiantly, crossing her arms as she sank into the chair beside me.

"I'm Max," I said shortly, not sparing another glance at the girl next to me. "Why did you go out and buy donuts in the middle of the day? Don't you have to stay here and, I dunno, work?" I sent a questioning look towards Mr. Reynolds and a slightly covetous one towards the donuts.

Mr. Reynolds grinned easily at me. "The donuts are crucial for my work," he explained seriously, no hint of teasing in his voice. "I find that some students are more open when faced with a bribe."

I had to smile back at that. Mr. Reynolds seemed like a smart man. He knew that the way to a teenager's heart was through the stomach. I was about to ask him who he used this method on when dear Lissa interrupted me.

"Can we get on with this?" she cut in, sounding annoyed. "This is a waste of time."

"Well I could just suspend you for fighting instead of hearing you out," Mr. Reynolds offered pleasantly, smiling at Lissa. She glared at him, but fell into a moody silence. "That's what I thought," Mr. Reynolds remarked. "Now what exactly happened here?"

That was a bad move on his part. Lissa and I both started talking at once, the memory of the incident resparking my previous anger.

"She stole my boyfriend," Lissa announced.

"She thinks Fang is her boyfriend, but he doesn't even like her at all," I corrected, glaring at Lissa.

"She's a stealing slut!" Lissa cried.

"She's totally oblivious and stupid!" I snapped back.

"Fang was mine!"

"Well, now he's mine! Deal with it!"

"You're a bitch!"

"Ladies!" Mr. Reynolds interrupted, holding up both hands. "Name calling is not the way to solve this." Lissa and I, in a rare moment of agreement, both rolled our eyes at this kindergarten logic. Mr. Reynolds ignored us and continued. "I'm going to hear out both sides of the story here," he decided, settling back in his leather chair. "Lissa, you first."

Lissa straightened in her own chair, adopting an injured expression as she began her woeful tale. "So I've been dating Fang Rianild for months," she started, "and everything was great with us. Then Max came to school and he broke up with me. Now, just two months later, he's dating her! So I slapped her for being a boyfriend-stealer and Max attacked me. Then Ms. James sent us here." Lissa shrugged, as if she couldn't understand what was wrong with slapping me, or why she was here in the first place.

Mr. Reynolds nodded solemnly, then turned his gaze on me. "Max, your turn," he prompted.

"Fang doesn't like Lissa anymore," I stated, my eyes locked on the counselor's. "They've been over since before I even got here, but Lissa can't seem to understand that. So yeah, I was friends with Fang and we got closer over time, and this weekend he asked me out." I snuck a peek at Lissa, who was fuming silently, her cheeks matching her hair color in redness. "When Lissa found out she called me a bitch, slapped me, and insulted my sister, so I put her in a headlock to get her to lay off. I didn't hurt her at all, and I did not attack her." Lissa snorted, but I ignored her. "Like Lissa said, Ms. James sent us here," I finished, looking steadily back at Mr. Reynolds.

"Okay," Mr. Reynolds said, looking between the two of us. "Judging from both of your stories, I think I need to get Fang himself in here."

I smiled. "That's a great idea," I agreed.

Lissa glowered silently, but made no protest against the action.

Mr. Reynolds stood up and crossed the room to peek out the door. "Hailey, would you mind asking Fang Rianild to the office?" he called out. Ms. Jean replied an affirmative, and moments later the loudspeaker crackled on, calling Fang to the office.

We sat in silence for a moment while Mr. Reynolds returned to his desk and started shuffling some papers around. "Hopefully Fang will be able to help clear up this little misunderstanding," he commented casually, peering at one paper before tossing it in the recycling.

"He will," I assured him. Lissa rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair and fixing her hair.

A few minutes later, Mr. Reynolds' door opened again, and none other than Fang slipped inside. He looked cautiously between Lissa, Mr. Reynolds, and I, obviously checking to make sure we weren't about to rip each other's limbs off. "Hello," he said warily, closing the door behind him. Fang kept his hand on the doorknob, possibly for use in a quick get-away if he needed to escape.

Such a mistrusting boy I'm dating.

"Hello Fang," Mr. Reynolds greeted him enthusiastically. "We just wanted to hear your views on a few questions. Is that okay?"

Fang looked suspicious. "Sure," he replied, sounding unconvinced by Mr. Reynolds' light tone.

"So! First off, what are your feelings on Lissa?" Mr. Reynolds asked bluntly.

A startled look broke through Fang's mask, and he glanced sharply at the girl in question. Lissa straightened expectantly, smiling winningly at my boyfriend. "She's… okay," he hedged finally.

Lissa deflated at his lack of enthusiasm. I had to struggle to hide a victorious smirk.

"And what about Max?" Mr. Reynolds prompted.

Fang actually smiled a little bit, but the expression quickly faded into indifference under Mr. Reynolds' and Lissa's scrutinizing gazes. "I'm dating Max," he said simply. "So I think it's pretty obvious I like her just a bit."

"Only a bit? No more cookies for you," I muttered. Fang smirked at me, and I rolled my eyes dramatically at him in return.

Lissa looked angry again- probably about the fact that Fang himself had just stated he was going out with me. "Obviously they're going to make this against me, since he likes her better," she pointed out pettishly to Mr. Reynolds.

The guidance counselor looked unconcerned by this, leaning back in his chair and gazing up at the clock. "Well, you just admitted you know he doesn't like you anymore Lissa, yet you call Max a boyfriend stealing slut," he remarked calmly. "I can't correlate those two facts."

Point for Mr. Reynolds. Score: Reynolds 1, Lissa 0.

"And I think an apology to Max is in order for name calling and insulting her sister," Mr. Reynolds added.

Lissa's jaw dropped. "What?" she demanded.

Reynolds 2, Lissa 0.

"She should be apologizing to me!" Lissa continued, sounding affronted.

"Lissa, I haven't liked you for months," Fang interjected suddenly. "I didn't start dating Max because of you, I started dating her because I like her."

The skin of Lissa's cheeks were turning a nasty shade of red now. She was openly glaring at me now.

I can't imagine why she could possibly be angry with me.

"See, Lissa? I think you just misread the situation here. No big deal," Mr. Reynolds assured her brightly. "Let's apologize and be done with it."

Reynolds/Rianild 3, Lissa -1.

Lissa looked furious now, but she couldn't just disobey a direct order from a staff member. "I'm sorry," she muttered in a sulky voice.

"For?" Mr. Reynolds prompted gently.

"For calling you a bitch and saying Ella's stupid," Lissa snapped, her voice dripping with disgust.

"I accept your apology," I said carefully, trying extremely hard to contain my laughter. I'm pretty sure only a snicker or two escaped, which I considered a pretty magnificent feat on my part.

"Excellent!" Mr. Reynolds said approvingly, completely overlooking the insincerity on both ends of our little apology. "Lissa, Fang, you may go back to class. I want to talk to Max for a moment."

Lissa stood up and brushed past Fang, stalking angrily out the door and slamming it behind her. Fang looked at me for a moment, his head cocked slightly. "See you at lunch?" he asked, ignoring Mr. Reynolds for a moment.

"Definitely," I assured him, flashing him a quick smile. Fang half smiled back, then slipped quietly out the door. I was left staring awkwardly at Mr. Reynolds, who was situated very comfortably in his big leather chair and fiddling with his laptop. "So, what do you need me for?" I asked after a moment, looking at the counselor curiously.

Mr. Reynolds looked up, his brown eyes more serious now. "You're friends with Iggy," he stated. There wasn't a trace of hesitation in his voice— to Mr. Reynolds, this was a fact.

I nodded slowly, wondering how he knew that and why he was bringing it up. What did my fight with Lissa have to do with Iggy? "We're pretty close," I agreed.

"How do you think Iggy feels about being blind?" Mr. Reynolds asked, leaning forward intently. "Just from your point of view," he added. "Not what anyone else has told you."

I frowned slightly, looking away from Mr. Reynolds. I fixed my eyes on his little bronze name plaque instead, mentally tracing the letters as I thought. I was halfway through 'Richard' when I spoke again, keeping my gaze on the plaque. "He deals with it perfectly in everyday life," I said carefully, thinking back to my first day at Cromwell. It had never occurred to me Iggy was blind when no one told me that fact. He walked with such confidence and ease that it was nigh unnoticeable he couldn't even see where he was going. "Iggy has no problem navigating or learning or anything. I think it's more of an internal thing, like he thinks everyone thinks of him as a usesless cripple, even though it's totally the opposite."

Mr. Reynolds nodded thoughtfully. "That's pretty much what I've gathered," he agreed, smiling a little sadly at the box of donuts in front of him. "Iggy has a hard lot to deal with. I heard he was a fantastic goalie when he was younger, and was generally an outstanding athlete. It must be awful to have to sit back while everyone who can see plays his favorite sport."

"Yeah," I agreed softly. I let my eyes linger back on the name plaque for a moment.

Then I remembered why I was here— to be punished for fighting, not to talk about Iggy. "Why are you even asking me this?" I asked, "What do you have to do with Iggy?"

Mr. Reynolds looked slightly surprised. "Didn't Iggy tell you about me?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

I was about to say no, to answer that I couldn't imagine Iggy putting up with a guidance counselor demanding to know his feelings about being blind. Then I stopped and thought for a moment.

The powdered donuts.

Mr. Reynolds knew Iggy and I were friends.

He knew exacly who Fang was, when most of the teachers never caught on to his nickname. I was 99% sure Fang had never personally spoken to the guidance counselor before.

And then my eyes were wrenched back to the name plaque I had been eyeing for the past few minutes. Richard M. Reynolds.

"You're Richie?" I asked bluntly, the words spilling from my mouth as soon as I came to the conclusion.

Mr. Reynolds (or should I say Richie) grimaced slightly. "Iggy insists on calling me that," he admitted.

"Iggy told me I should talk to you about my feelings because I was snapping pencils in history class," I informed him.

Richie actually grinned at this. "Yeah, Iggy let me know about your little anger management problems," he snickered. "I'd be happy to help with that, you know."

School guidance counselors are not supposed to snicker at students!

"I do not have anger management problems," I retorted. "And I don't talk to therapists after one tried to reason with me when my dad ditched us. Bad memories." I rolled my eyes slightly, crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned back in my chair.

Richie looked a little more serious now. "Really, Max, if you ever need someone to just listen for a minute, you can come here," Richie offered. A little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes started twinkling. "I always keep a supply of powdered donuts, too," he added persuasively. "And you can skip history with Iggy to come chill with me!"

"Is that where he always goes?" I demanded. "That's not fair! History sucks without Iggy to bother."

"You can come too sometimes," Richie assured me. "Of course, I'll have to talk to you separately at certain times, but you can hang out in the office and do homework while I'm here with Iggy, and vice versa."

I smirked, raising an eyebrow at Richie. "Aren't you supposed to care that we're ditching class? You're a faculty member, and you're aiding students in skivving off history!" I accused.

Richie shrugged, seemingly unperturbed by my accusation. "I have my reasons, and there are ways to get what I want," he said mysteriously. "Now you should go to class Max. I'll write you a note." Richie reached for a pen, simultaneously scrabbling for a sheet of paper with his other hand. "Class?"

"Science with Mr. Lundom," I answered, standing up and hitching my jeans to sit better on my waist.

Richie scribbled on the paper for a moment, then held it out to me. "Have fun in class," he told me mischievously. "I heard it's pig dissection today!"

I grimaced. "Lovely. See you Richie," I called behind me, heading for the door.

"And Max?"

I turned around, expecting to get another piece of pithy advice. Instead, a small white object came hurtling at my nose.

I grabbed it unthinkingly straight out of the air then paused for a moment to admire my ninja skillage. Richie laughed, probably at the expression on my face, then waved me out. "That's your reward for talking to me," he said with a grin. "Now get out of my office."

"Bye Richie," I replied, grinning back before hurrying out. I took a bite of the powdered donut in my hand, then hurried down the hallway to get my stuff from Ms. James' classroom.

Iggy had some major explaining to do.

**I know you people are gonna be mad about me not explaining the whole emergency room deal, but just chill for a week or so, kayp? =P you rock! **

**Happy Valentine's Day! I wanted to update as a present for you guys. =) I'd make a little Internet heart, but fanfiction would just eat the less-than sign. =(**

**My little V-Day experience: I opened my trumpet case and there was a little valentine note taped to the inside, along with flower petals scattered all over my case. =) it was adorable. **

**_ONE LAST THING!_ would you guys prefer long (like my usual 5-8,000 word) chapters and a little longer waits, or shorter (like 2-3,000 word) chapters and quicker updates?**

**Actually, I personally prefer to write long chapters because it tends to flow better and I feel like it's more well-written. _PLEASE LET ME KNOW!_**

**Review please! =D**

**~TMI~**


	34. Ella's Problems

**OH DEAR LORD, IT'S A FREAKING CHRISTMAS MIRACLE.**

**I can hardly believe it. If I'm dreaming and someone pinches me awake, I will personally hunt them down and kill them for snapping me out of my blissful fantasies.**

**School Days has officially breached 1,000 reviews.**

**OH MY GOD THAT IS AMAZING. I just want to thank all of you for your brilliant, amazing support. Thank you all!**

**DEDICATED TO: Serenaisbestezrq387, for her faithful reviewing practically every chapter as she read and for being Review #1000! Also to villite246, who threatened me into updating. Also, you're not missing anything. That thing you mentioned is something that will be picked up on later. =)**

**On a COMPLETELY random note, don't you just HATE that pseudo-wifi where it says you're connected and have full bars, but then when you try to use the damn wifi it's like 'CANNOT CONNECT'?**

**FPOV**

It was lunch time, and I was extremely confused.

Iggy and Max were huddled at one end of the plastic picnic table, heads bent together and whispering furiously. No one else but Ella and I seemed to notice their strange behavior, probably since we were both dating one of the two culprits.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Ella asked me, setting down her sandwich and shooting a furtive glance down the lunch table.

I shrugged.

"Can you hear them?" Ella pressed, craving her neck past Gazzy and Nudge to look at Iggy. Gazzy was attempting to help Nudge learn to write left handed, laughing and trying to fit her fingers properly around the pencil. Nudge was having very little success, and kept shaking her right hand in its bulky brace, staring at it longingly and complaining loudly. Altogether, the duo were making quite a bit of noise, and I couldn't hear anything that Iggy or Max were talking about. I shrugged at Ella again, taking a bite of my apple.

"I mean, what could possibly be so important that they've been ignoring everyone else for the past ten minutes?" Ella continued, sounding distressed.

Having no answer to Ella's questions, I just shrugged again.

"Will you please stop doing that and answer me?" Ella snapped, turning to glare at me.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you jealous?" I asked calmly, avidly watching her expression. Ella's face was a dead giveaway to how she felt: the girl couldn't control her emotions very well.

Just as I predicted, Ella's eyes widened in shock, a dull red flush instantly coating her cheeks. "I am so not jealous!" she protested. "Max is my sister, and I trust her, and I know she's totally obsessed with you anyway!"

At this, I felt an involuntary grin break across my face. "Max is obsessed with me?" I asked, trying to sound skeptical.

Ella rolled her eyes. "That's not even a question, Fang," she replied, picking up her sandwich again and taking a moody bite. Ella's nose scrunched in distaste, and she balefully inspected her sandwich. "Salami," she muttered. "Yuck."

"You like salami. You're just mad about Iggy," I informed her.

Ella threw down her food in exasperation, huffing to herself and trying to look around Gazzy and Nudge again. "I might be a little frustrated that I haven't talked to him since our date on Friday, okay?" she admitted, her eyes locked on Iggy's turned back. "I mean, I had an amazing time, and I just can't help but feel like maybe Iggy wasn't as excited as I was." Ella's anger faded, replaced by the slumped shoulders of defeat.

Oh crap. I was dealing with an upset teenage girl who just happened to be the sister of my girlfriend here. There was no doubt in my mind this situation would not end well for one of us.

That person would most likely end up being me.

"Ells, Iggy likes you," I told her firmly. Drawing another breath, I racked my brain for something wise and emotionally appropriate to say… and came up blank. The only thing I could think of was that my apple was a little too tart for my taste. Damn mind! Why can it only focus on food?

Ella laughed shortly, raising an eyebrow at me. "Is that your great comforting speech?" she asked dubiously. "That's pathetic. I hope Max never needs you to comfort her- you would suck so much at it."

"Just trying to help," I muttered, setting my too tart apple down and picking up a granola bar instead. "I'm not a therapist or anything."

"Speaking of which, didn't you get called to the guidance counselor's office this morning?" Ella snickered, diverted momentarily from the topic of Iggy.

Phew.

"Yeah," I confirmed, "but that was only because Max and Lissa got in a fight over me in homeroom and I had to come settle it out."

"They what?" Ella shrieked, her mouth dropping open in shock. "Oh my God, Mom would murder her if she knew she was in another fight!" Ella leaned across the table towards me, everything else instantly forgotten. "What exactly happened?" she demanded.

"Lissa was hitting on me and Max told her to stop talking to me 'cause I'm her boyfriend and not Lissa's," —I couldn't stop another smile from taking over my lips at that. It still made my stomach flip a bit to publically acknowledge Max as my girlfriend— "and Lissa flipped out and slapped her, insulted Max and you, and Max got her in a headlock and Ms. James sent them both to the office."

Ella looked concerned by my whole explanation. She had a full on 'crap-my-sister-is-an-idiot-and-is-gonna-get-in-so -much-trouble-with-mom' look on her face, and her eyes were filled with worry. "So Max didn't start it at least, right?" she prodded, her eyes locked on mine.

I shrugged. "Depends on how you look at it, I guess," I replied honestly. "In my opinion? No, she didn't."

"Well hopefully our mom shares your opinion," Ella groaned. "She just might kill Max for fighting two days in a row."

"Why was she so serious about the whole thing yesterday anyway?" I asked. The question had been gnawing at me all day, and I couldn't help but wonder why Dr. M has reacted so strongly to Max protecting Nudge from those Flare girls. It wasn't like she had started the fight or anything- she was defending herself and a friend. That was perfectly fine, in my book, but obviously it was a huge no-no in Dr. M's.

What I wanted to know was, why?

Ella shifted in her seat, suddenly guarded and uncomfortable. The change was highly visible in her body language, and I was instantly aware of some internal conflict bubbling up. "Well, Max is a pretty powerful person," Ella said slowly, delicately avoiding my eyes. "Mom is kinda worried she might accidentally hurt someone. In fact, Mom taught Max how to do that headlock she used on the Flare girl yesterday. She wanted her to know how to protect herself without her fists."

I nodded, taking another contemplative bite of my apple. I chewed quietly for a moment, and while I waited I could practically feel Ella's discomfort rising. There was no doubt in my mind that she was hiding something. "That makes sense," I remarked casually.

Ella looked relieved, something that only confirmed my suspicions. "Yeah," she agreed quickly, smiling at me.

"But I don't think that's the whole truth," I added, just as casually. My eyes were locked on Ella's face again, searching for tne smallest hint of a giveaway emotion.

I didn't have to look very hard. Ella's whole face crumpled, and her gaze slid instantly down to her food again. "Fang, just please don't ask me," she murmured, sounding very small and vulnerable. "Ask Max if you really want to know- it's not my place to decide when or what she tells you. I don't even remember all of it, and Mom refused to tell me everything."

"It's that bad of a secret?" I asked dubiously.

"It's pretty bad," Ella confirmed, her voice cracking. "Can we ditch the topic now? Please?"

I really didn't want her to start crying, so I readily agreed. "Do you know who we're playing tomorrow?" I asked, switching automatically to the most important thing on my mind.

Soccer. Well, duh!

"I think it's Lynxes versus Trojans," Ella said hesitantly, cocking her head to the side as she thought. "I'm not sure. I think Danny has to play center defense because of Nudge's wrist though, so we'll see how he does."

We only got to talk about the team for a little longer until the inhumanly energetic creature known as Terra came bouncing over. "Fang Rianild and Ella Martinez!" she thundered. "Why aren't you sitting with Iggy and Max? How dare thee neglect thy significant others?"

I rolled my eyes at our lovely, overdramatic friend. "Because Iggy and Max are having a gossip fest, so Ella and I banded together as the Abandoned Ones," I explained seriously. Ella nodded vigorously in agreement, putting on her best pitiful face.

Terra snorted. "Not an acceptable excuse," she announced. Terra grabbed both of us by the arm and yanked us out of our seats. Ella yelped in protest, and I just rolled my eyes. Sadly, I was used to this abuse from Terra.

We were forcibly dragged from our comfortable seats and marched over to Iggy and Max's little gossip corner. Terra shoved us down on the bench and stalked away, obviously satisfied that her work was complete.

Max raised an eyebrow at us, looking in confusion between me and Ella. "And what was that about?" she asked skeptically.

I shrugged in reply. "Don't even ask," I muttered, taking another bite of my apple. Thankfully, Terra hadn't confiscated my food. I might have had to kill her if she tried that.

"So what are you guys talking about?" Ella asked brightly.

"School stuff," Iggy replied vaguely, his sightless gaze trained perfectly on Ella's face. Strangely, his eyes seemed sad and almost wistful. I wondered briefly if he was wishing he could really see Ella, instead of pretending to look at her. "You?" Iggy asked.

"We were talking soccer," Ella replied, her eyes lighting up as she leaned closer to Iggy. "Since Nudge is out for awhile, Anne has to switch around some players on the field."

Iggy looked interested now, most of the sadness in his eyes suddenly hidden away. Soccer had always been his thing, pre-blindness and after. "Who's she putting in Nudge's spot?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.

Ella looked pleased to have effectively gotten Iggy's attention, scooting a little closer to him. "We don't know yet, but I'm guessing Danny or Matt," she told him. "Nudge can't play again until at least end of the season with her wrist busted."

Iggy opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak he was cut off by a third party joining the conversation. Nudge, accompanied by Cassie Lassen and Daphne Kurtt, sprang out of nowhere and started squealing uncontrollably.

Well. Someone was looking excited.

"Max! Ella!" Nudge screamed, a grin spreading all the way across her face. "ZOMG guess what?"

"If you need any convincing to join Downpour, this is it," Daphne interjected, smiling and bouncing on her toes.

"What is it?" Max asked, looking interested. Ella nodded, shooting Nudge an inquisitive look.

"Christie's taking the team to Hawaii for a soccer tournament!" Cassie screamed. She drew more than a few strange looks from people around us, but didn't appear to care. She was practically vibrating with excitement. "Won't that be amazing?"

"Hawaii?" Max asked blankly, apparently not processing.

"Hawaii!" Ella squealed. "I've never been there before!"

"I know, me neither!" Daphne agreed. "We went to Oregon twice for a tournament, but we can't go anymore because it only goes up to girls under 14 and we moved up to under 15."

Suddenly, Ella's previously animated face fell and she slumped down in her seat, looking dejected. "I knew I was forgetting something," she groaned. "I'm too young for U15."

"Too young?" Cassie asked. "You're a freshman, aren't you?" A confused look was etched on her face, the same one forming on all of ours- except for Max and Nudge.

"Oh crap, I forgot too," Max sighed, disappointment leaking into her voice. She reached over and put an arm around her sister in that half hug sort of thing girls do. "Sorry Ells."

"Well you can play up to U15 even if you aren't fourteen," Nudge argued. "You're good enough to play up, Ella."

"Wait a second," Iggy interrupted, looking extremely confused. "You aren't fourteen Ella?"

"No," Ella confirmed, shrugging her shoulders. "I skipped a grade in second grade, so I'm always the youngest. Over the summer between first and second grades Max just taught me all the standards I had to know, and we worked on them till I was practically perfect at everything," she explained. A mischievous little smile stole over Ella's face. "The teachers all thought I was a genius, when really we both just wanted to be in the same grade," she added with a giggle. "I'm still thirteen, don't turn fourteen until November."

"You are pretty smart," Max argued, looking annoyed by her sister's modesty. "How many first graders can learn every second grade standard in one summer?"

"I don't know," Ella hedged teasingly, grinning at Max. "How many second graders can teach their younger sister every second grade standard in one summer?"

"How come you never mentioned this before?" Iggy broke in, his voice sounding strangely off. I frowned at the difference, but nobody else seemed to notice.

Ella shrugged again. "I don't know," she repeated casually. "It never seemed important. I told Nudge when we moved here, but nobody else ever asked."

"Well I'm sure you can play up. You were amazing yesterday," Cassie assured her brightly.

"Really? Thanks!" Ella replied, her face glowing with pride at the compliment.

"I've got to go now," Iggy announced, standing up abruptly. "See you guys."

I stood up immediately, and noticed with some surprise that Max had stood up at the same time. "Iggy, are you okay?" Max asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," he replied shortly, tossing his empty lunch bag in a trash can.

"I'll come with you," I offered, moving to grab my own lunch bag.

"I said I'm fine," Iggy snapped. Everyone fell silent, staring at him in confusion. Iggy stood completely still for a minute, then turned quickly and strode away, shoulders tense.

"What's wrong with him?" Daphne asked, surprise plain in her voice.

"I don't know," Ella murmured, staring after Iggy with a little bit of hurt clear in her eyes. "He just… exploded."

"I'm going to go find out," I decided, tossing my trash away and swinging my legs over the bench to follow Iggy.

Max's hand on my wrist stopped my movement. I looked from her hand to her face, raising an eyebrow and not speaking until she finally let go. "Give him space for a minute, okay?" she asked softly. "He should be fine."

"What if he needs to talk to someone?" Nudge asked, sounding distressed. "Being alone and sulking isn't going to solve a problem, whatever his deal is!"

Max smiled wryly, looking back down at the half-eaten food in front of her. "He's got someone to talk to, Nudge," she murmured. "Don't worry about it."

Silence fell again, broken only by Ella's nervous twisting of a paper napkin. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked hesitantly. Her eyes were still locked on the spot where Iggy had shoved the cafeteria doors open and disappeared.

"I don't think so…" Max offered weakly. "How could you have?"

Nobody had an answer.

"She's thirteen, Richie. Thirteen years old! I'm practically a pedophile!"

Iggy stormed around the small space, his eyes frantic and hands running distractedly through his hair.

Richie watched calmly as Iggy ranted his way around the room. A half eaten box of powdered donuts lay open on his cluttered desk, and Richie leaned back in his chair as he tried to piece together the information Iggy had spit out upon storming into the room seconds before. "Iggy, being two years older than someone and liking them does not make you a pedophile," Richie assured him soothingly.

That made Iggy freeze. "But I'm not just two years older," he argued, sounding thoroughly worked up. "Ella said she's turning fourteen in November! I'm turning sixteen next month! That's closer to three years than two!"

"So? There are seniors who date sophomores, freshmen who date juniors," Richie pointed out. He thought for a moment, then added, "My girlfriend right now is three years older than me, actually."

"You date cougars?" Iggy demanded, sounding appalled.

"Darlene is not a cougar!" Richie retorted. "Three years is not a big age difference, Iggy! That's the point I'm trying to make here!" He paused for a moment, a confused look making its way onto his face. "So Ella skipped a grade and is a year younger, but how are you almost two years older?" Richie asked.

"Aren't you supposed to have files on these things?" Iggy snapped, his hand flying back to his hair and yanking through it. "I went to preschool a year late, and then I got held back in first grade because I wasn't learning to read in favor of building mini stink bombs. That turned out great anyway because I met Gazzy, Fang and Nudge the next year."

Richie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You knew how to build stink bombs in first grade?" he asked, sounding vaguely impressed.

Iggy shrugged. "It isn't that hard," he replied dismissively. "But what the hell am I supposed to do about Ella? I can't date a thirteen year old! That's not right!"

Richie sat up in his chair, leaning forward and looking intently at his distressed client. "Why don't you ask her?" he suggested. "Ella might not care that you're almost sixteen."

"Girls never do," Iggy groaned, falling into a chair. "They always think it's hot or romantic or some crap like that. But it's not! It's stressful!"

"Did you ever think there might be a reason age wouldn't matter to her?" Richie pressed. "If it doesn't matter to Ella, why should it matter to you if you really like her?"

Iggy just shook his head, looking defeated. "I just can't do that," he muttered. "I would feel like I'm taking advantage of her."

Richie sighed, falling back in his chair again. "Well, do what you think is right I guess," he said finally. "My real job is to talk to you about being blind, not your girlfriend." Iggy bristled at the word 'girlfriend', but Richie pretended not to notice. "How are you on that front, anyway? Been making any headway in defining your emotions and stuff?"

"And stuff?" Iggy echoed dubiously. "Can I see your degree? Are you really certified, Richie?"

"Don't call me Richie," Richie replied automatically. "And no you can't see my degree. We're discussing your blindness, Iggy. Remember?"

Iggy's mouth twisted sardonically. "Oh, how ironically clever of you, Richie," he remarked, rolling his eyes. "Do you want a cookie as a reward?"

"If you aren't going to talk, I'm sending you to sixth period," Richie threatened.

Iggy paled visibly. "Nooooo," he whined, sitting up straighter. "Science is next, and Mr. Lundom makes me sit in the corner like an idiot and never lets me do anything!"

"Well stop messing around then," Richie scolded. "Believe it or not, I'm actually supposed to be helping you, not just fattening you up with donuts."

"Fine," Iggy huffed. "I talked to Max today."

Richie brightened, sitting forward in his chair. "Really? How'd it go?" he asked eagerly. Richie had been secretly hoping Max would confront Iggy after realizing he had been talking with the school guidance counselor. She seemed like a very able girl, certainly capable of cracking into Iggy for hiding the reason to his mysterious escapes out of history class.

"It was fine," Iggy replied shortly, obviously disinterested. "She mainly wanted to know why I didn't tell anyone about talking to you."

"And what did you say?" Richie prompted. Could it be that all Iggy needed was some gentle pushing to open up?

"I told her the truth," Iggy told him, somewhat irritably. "That I wasn't purposely keeping it secret, but that I was always interrupted before I could say anything, and then everybody forgot about it." Iggy shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "It's not that big of a deal, anyway," he murmured, closing his sightless eyes. "Mind if I take a nap, Richie my boy?" he yawned. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Richie fought back a smile, summoning up the self discipline to sound stern and in charge. "Iggy, what did I just say about actually needing to talk to you about your problems?" he reminded him.

Iggy waved his hands around noncommittally. "Can I just have a donut?" he asked simply. "That would solve all of my problems."

Stifling another smile, Richie solemnly plucked a powdered donut from the box on his desk and tossed it lightly to Iggy. The blind boy caught it with impeccable precision.

"Thanks," Iggy murmured, his pale eyes trained on the donut as if he could actually see it. Something in his voice sounded impossibly small, utterly frail, yet still very well hidden by the loud, cheeky tone. His blunt confidence was an expert tactic for drowning out his vulnerability, but just for a moment Richie could see through the veil. He softened a little, gazing sadly at the distressed teenager in front of him. He wished he could do something for Iggy other than help him ditch class and supply him with junk food.

Finally, Richie cleared his throat, trying to sound comforting. "That's my job," he replied quietly. "Isn't it?"

Iggy's solemn face broke out in a crooked half-smile. "I guess it is," he agreed. Iggy sighed, taking a bite of his donut and chewing thoughtfully. "Thanks anyway though."

Richie smiled back, even knowing Iggy would never see it. He had done his best to help, and both of them knew it. Iggy just had to pause for a moment to smell the flowers, hear the breeze sigh, listen to the music- and he was making progress on that front.

He would be okay.

"I can't imagine what I could have done," Ella groaned, her shoulders taut with distress even as she attempted to loosen up while we stretched out.

Max looked up from her butterfly stretch, her face sympathetic, but getting a little impatient. I couldn't really blame her: Ella had been freaking out about Iggy's lunch time drama the whole practice. "Ells, calm down already," Max ordered, leaning into her stretch. "There's nothing you can do right now."

"But what could I have done?" Ella wailed. She swiped furiously at the toes of her cleats, leaning down low at the waist to scrape the grass with her dangling fingers. "I just don't get it!"

"Chill, Ella," Liz advised her, her voice calm and soothing. "I'm sure it was nothing."

"Girls overreact to everything guys do," Danny agreed emphatically. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Nudge's reaction to her crush speaking.

Her face didn't change, no blush tinting her cheeks as she prodded at her left ankle, rotating it and kneading along the side. Her wrist was still encased safely in the brace, but she was adamant about staying off to the side and passing the ball around with Anne while we practiced. She didn't want to get out of shape while her bones mended.

But I'm getting off track. The point is, Nudge didn't react at all to Danny's comment. That was strange in itself, seeing as since she was eight years old Nudge's face has been as easy to read as a children's learn-the-alphabet book. If she so much as saw a boy she liked, her entire expression would change instantly. Yet here was Danny talking about girl-boy relationships right in front of her, and Nudge wasn't batting an eyelash.

Intriguing. Was she over him already?

"Circle up, Lynxes!" Anne ordered, materializing behind Lauri and Ford. We all obeyed instantly, jumping up from our various stretching positions and crowding in a small lump around our coach.

Anne looked around at all of us carefully, studying each face with an intense, searching light in her eyes. "I'm sure you've all noticed Nudge's injury," she began, sounding disappointed at the very mention of it. "She will not be able to play for at least five or six weeks, which we all know will be a hard blow to our defense. I'm switching Ella back from stopper to sweeper, and several of the normal wing defenders will be trading off playing stopper. All of you need to take care of yourselves. I don't want any more injuries!" Anne finished, tapping her clipboard decisively. "Is that clear? Watch out for yourselves," she ordered. "Now let's get down to work. We're playing McCarthy tomorrow, and they're a notoriously rough team."

"I've heard some nasty rumors about their forwards," Lucas volunteered, wrinkling his nose at the very thought.

"Apparently they've got one girl who likes to hit people like a truckload of bricks," Devon agreed. "I heard that too, Luke."

"It doesn't matter who their players are, as long as we play our game and don't succumb to their playing style," Danny declared. I could've sworn he snuck a look at Nudge, but she wasn't paying very much attention, gazing forlornly at the brace strapped to her wrist.

"Well said, Danny," Anne praised. Danny shrugged noncommittally, and I knew he much would have preferred a different girl's compliments. "Let's get down to work! No skipping Death Defiers today, kiddies!"

Everyone groaned in unison, but grudgingly started off on our usual warm ups routine. We had all known that Death Defiers would be returning eventually, and had savored their momentary absence while it lasted.

For anyone who wants to know what a Death Defier really is, I can explain in two words. Pure. Hell. Enough is said on that subject with that simple pair of words. If someone really, really wants to know more, they can go request a set or two from Anne to try out. I have to admit that the burning pain does mean it's a good workout.

Practice was going smoothly enough after warm ups, with little to no mistakes made by our players. Anne and Nudge worked on smaller drills off to the side, ones where Nudge wasn't in danger of injuring her wrist. Meanwhile, the rest of us were engaged in a heated game of possession, red pinnies versus shirts, one where there was only one goal to shoot on, and six passes were necessary before taking a shot on Lauri. Of course, Anne just had to place both Max and Gazzy on the red pinney team, and they were dominating the game with their ridiculously perfect passing. Those two were a deadly threat, one always knowing exactly what the other would be thinking. Juliann and Ford were on the shirts team with me, and the three of us attempted to isolate the Dynamic Duo while the rest of our team scurried around trying to gain possession of the ball. Anne had threatened the losing team with extra Death Defiers, so obviously it was in our best interests if we shut down the Gazzy-Max passing machine.

That's when it happened.

Max swooped in and stole the ball from Sadie, faking her out with a slick little pullback before dribbling swiftly away from the scene of the crime. Immediately, Juliann and Lucas were hot on her back, doing their best to revoke the ball again. Max performed a tidy little scissors, faking out Lucas and shaking him off her tail. Juliann, however, was not fooled, and it took Max a very impressive rainbow flicked from her heels over her shoulder to get past the second defender. As soon as she had struggled free of Juliann, Max passed the ball off to Jack, who was forced to cut haphazardly around Liz before passing quickly off to Rosanna. Four more passes for the opposite team later, Jack was back in possession of the ball and speeding towards Lauri in the goal. Ella closed abruptly in on him, attaching to his side like a leech and trying valiantly to poke the ball away from his feet.

Jack managed to keep possession all the way to the goal box, mainly due to the fact he towered at least eight inches over Ella's head and was using his advantage well. The rest of the shirts team spread out to cover the pinnies, but everyone had their eyes on Jack and Ella. We were all wondering who would win out in this struggle for the ball: quick, agile Ella, or stronger, more powerful Jack?

The answer was the goal post.

Strange answer, I know, but it was true. Jack and Ella fought for the ball all the way through the goal box, each completely intent on keeping the ball in their control. They completely disregarded the yelled directions from each of their teams, simply plowing on towards the goal. Lauri crouched in the center of the net, hands at the ready to catch even the vaguest possibility of a shot.

Jack was only about fifteen feet away from the goal, but he hadn't yet shot. Some players on the shirts team started surging towards him, and Max's booming orders to pass the ball off increased vastly in both volume and frequency.

Jack ignored her, eyes on the goal.

"Lauri, come out and challenge!" Anne ordered from the side, stopping the ball under her foot to watch for a moment. "Jack, try to juke her!"

Both players immediately obeyed, Lauri running towards Jack with her eyes locked on the ball. Jack simultaneously fought off Ella and Matt and tried to pull off a little move sequence that Anne had made us practice last week. It actually worked surprisingly well, getting Jack safely past Lauri and shaking Matt off his tail. Jack finally seemed to decide to shoot, pulling his foot back and smashing it into the ball.

Or at least, the spot where the ball had been half a second before.

Unfortunately for him, Ella had darted in at precisely the right time and snatched the ball away, rolling it under her foot and whirling around. Undaunted, Jack lunged for it again, and miraculously managed to nip the ball away. A rather shocked Ella stopped in her tracks, then raced to catch up with Jack again.

Lauri had recovered from Jack's juke at this point and was back in the goal, but she was getting extremely confused by all of the movement directly in front of her. It appeared that she was valiantly trying to track the ball's path, but Ella and Jack's quick, erratic movements were making it extremely difficult for her to do so. They came closer and closer, until they were only three feet from the net with several players from both teams converging on them. Neither Ella nor Jack could get a firm foot on the ball though, and finally Lauri threw all caution to the winds and simply leaped on it.

Her arms closed around the ball in a strange little hug as she dove, and Lauri hastily tucked her head down so she wouldn't be cleated in the face by Jack or Ella. Our goalie rolled like an egg out from under the two players feet, effectively tripping them in the process. Jack went sprawling, flying into the goal itself and tumbling into the net, where his cleats got tangled up and he banged his elbow hard on the back bar. Ella yelped loudly as she went careening wildly over Lauri's head in an attempt not to kick the girl. She wasn't as lucky as Jack though, and instead of landing safely on the turf, Ella crashed into the goal post.

Everyone froze, watching helplessly as Ella slammed into the post and flopped limply down to the turf. She rolled into the fetal position, crying out weakly in pain. Ella's face was pasty white, and her eyes scrunched together as tears leaked steadily out the corners. She curled up into a tighter ball, clutching her left arm desperately in her right hand.

Then someone broke the silence.

"Ella!" Max screamed, somehow materializing beside the fallen girl. Max fell to her knees, leaning over and staring helplessly at the forlorn little bundle that was her sister. "Ella, are you okay? Shit, of course you aren't. Let me see your arm, okay Ells? I'm going to protect you. You won't get hurt again," Max rambled, her eyes locked on Ella's pale face as she gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

Ella whimpered, but seemed to understand Max's pleas. She rolled over, leaning into Max's kneeling legs and hiccuping pathetically. Tears continued to stream down her face, and Ella buried her face in the baggy hem of Max's shorts.

"It's okay Ells, I'm here," Max crooned, stroking Ella's hair in a strangely maternal way. "I've got you. Max is here."

The Lynxes stood silently around her, frozen in their previous positions as they stared at the scene before them. Even Anne seemed in shock, unable to do anything but watch as Max gently comforted her sobbing sister, gathering her up in her arms and pulling her tight to her body.

Then Max's head shot up, all traces of gentle maternity vanished as she whirled to face Anne. "Well, are you going to get her to a doctor?" Max snapped, her eyes unnaturally bright from held in tears.

This seemed to jolt Anne back into action. "Practice is canceled," she announced sharply, striding over and kneeling beside Ella and Max. "Can I trust you all to stay out of trouble for an hour?"

There was a weak chorus of 'yes' from the shocked team, and most people began to slowly disperse, shooting worried looks at the two sisters.

"Ella? It's Max, and I want you to tell me what hurts," Max whispered, her voice surprisingly soft and gentle once more.

To everyone's surprise, Ella actually laughed. It was mildly worrying, actually: a harsh, high, almost delerious sound that was nothing like her usual delighted giggles. "My arm," Ella gasped, her voice about an octave over her usual tone. "Oh crap, my arm hurts like burning hell." She clutched her arm even tighter, rolling on her back and squinting up at us. "This is ironic, isn't it?" Ella managed to ask, grinning weakly through the tears streaming down her face. "First Nudge gets her wrist broken, then Anne tells us not to get hurt, and now I busted _my_ arm. This is painfully ironic." She paused, then burst into another round of raucous, shrill laughter. "Painfully ironic! Oh dear lord, I'm hilarious!" she wheezed.

Apparently, Ella got hysterical when she was in pain.

Max's face hardened suddenly into an unreadable mask, an action that made my heart twist oddly. Everything else seemed to fade around her as I stared at the cold stoniness of her expression. Max was closed off, emotionally completely shut down.

My chest started to ache.

Yes, I'm a hypocrite for feeling this way. My own face was void of feeling practically all the time, and I purposely kept it this way. But on Max, to see her looking so closed and emotionless… it tore at me. She shouldn't look so jaded, shouldn't look so coldly detached. Max shouldn't ever look like that. Never.

"Get her to the ER," Max ordered, her voice hard and abrasively commanding. "Ella obviously needs help here!"

Anne jumped instantly into action, helping Ella to curl into a sitting position, then wobble unsteadily to her feet. Max stood up brusquely, starting to follow as our coach led Ella towards the parking lot. "Max," I murmured, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

Max glared at me, her eyes dark and unreadable as she shoved my hand away. "Come on Fang," she snapped. "We're wasting time."

I dropped my hand in shock, staring as Max sped up her already swift pace and hurried ahead of me. Anne murmured something about starting the car, and Max took Anne's place supporting Ella as the coach started running towards a dark blue Suburban.

Something was desperately wrong with Max. She was never so closed off, never so angry or cold. It appeared that it only took her sister's pain to shred Max's control and rationalizing beyond recognition.

A small hand touched my arm, and I half-turned to see Nudge hurrying along beside me. Her dark eyes were wide and fearful as she stared up at me wordlessly. "Ella will be fine," I murmured, already knowing the unasked question Nudge was nursing. "She's going to get help."

"Can I come with you guys to the ER?" Nudge whispered, gripping tightly onto my arm. "Please? I can't bear to stay here and not know what's happening. Ella is one of my best friends, and I deserve to stay and be with her-"

"You don't need to convince me," I interjected gently, stopping Nudge's rant before she could get too deeply entrenched in her worried babbling. "Ask Anne."

And that was how we ended up in the Emergency Room for the second day running. I swear the receptionist's eyebrows rocketed into the stratosphere when she saw us again, the four disheveled, sweaty soccer players toting yet another pale girl clutching her arm. As Ella disappeared through the door to the doctor's rooms with a nurse, Anne started talking quietly to the receptionist, leaving Max, Nudge and I to flop down into the waiting room chairs and. . . wait.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Nudge announced, standing up from her chair. Max and I nodded silently, and Nudge disappeared off to the bathroom, exactly like Ella and Max had yesterday. Ella and Nudge had switched places, and Anne was here instead of Dr. M, but other than that the scenes were practically identical.

I was getting a serious case of deja vu here, and it was really messing with my head.

Max sat in her stony silence, mask still in place and looking extremely cold and aloof. I watched her quietly, wondering what I could possibly say to bring back the real Max, the one who wouldn't hesitate to tell me what was making her so closed off. "Max?" I finally said, not exactly sure of what I would follow up with.

Max turned her head and stared at me blankly, nodding once to acknowledge she had heard me. There was a tense tightness in the muscle of her neck and the clench of her jaw that made me want to wash all of that mask away. The words spilled from my mouth before I could think, and I simply murmured, "Ella is strong."

Max's jaw twitched slightly. Then, before I could process it properly, Max's face crumpled into a strange desolation, and she flung her arms around my neck. Her face buried into my shoulder, and I instinctively circled my arms around her as she silently tried to pull herself together. "I know she's strong," Max whispered, her voice strangled, small and choking. "But I can't see her like that. I can't see anyone I care about like that. Never again."

I opened my mouth to ask what was happening, what she meant by that, when we were interrupted by the return of Nudge from the bathroom. She surveyed us quietly, looking from Max's overly bright eyes to my confused expression. Max slowly pulled away from me, struggling to pull up that cold mask again. It didn't completely resurface, but the suppressed tears in her eyes disappeared.

"Umm," Nudge broke the silence, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "Well, this definitely might not be the best time, but I just wanted to let you guys know that Dylan asked me out after school and I said yes. So yeah, we're kinda dating now."

Max and I sat in silence, staring as Nudge began to blush. Then, Max found her voice.

"What the hell Nudge?" she demanded, her voice both strangled and disbelieving at the same time. 'Why- how-" Max struggled for words, then settled back on a familiar, "What the hell?"

I could already tell this probably wasn't going to end well.

**Sorry for the delay here, but I was struggling with self discipline and flailing inspiration for awhile. I had a strange urge to play Pokemon Black again. . . so I did. XD And school has been crap. I had five tests on Friday! Five!**

**So yeah. Review please? I'll love you forever! =)**

**~TMI~**


	35. Max's Internal Turmoily Crap

**DEDICATED TO: villite246, zammielicous98, and FireInMyHeart226! Your reviews were respectively hilarious, encouraging, and all around amazing.**

**To AlexStrike, please do not cut off my elbow. I will be very depressed if you do. XD thank you!**

**I found myself yelling, "TMI! TMI!" at my brother, then was like "hehe, that's my name…" aren't I such a failure? -_-"**

**And I've just realized that every day I've missed school this year was because I had to go play my trumpet at some shmancy gig. XD isn't that cool?**

Well. Life was a cruel bastard, wasn't it?

Anne was currently stressing out, her face and shoulders taut with the evidence of that fact. She was talking quietly with Mom at the front door, their hushed voices nervous and reassuring respectively. Anne felt horrible that Ella had gotten hurt during our practice, and it was obvious she took full responsibility for the incident even though it was completely beyond her control.

My sister was safely tucked into bed in her room, already fast asleep and snoozing away. Ella never had a good pain tolerance level, and the exhaustion from her hysterics and injuries had overcame her almost as soon as we arrived back at home. Her hurt arm, clutched in the hold of a stiff white brace, was propped up on a fluffy blue pillow, and Ella's face had been tearstreaked and weary the last time I looked at it.

As for me? Well, I was doing push ups.

Fang watched patiently from his seat on the living room couch as I furiously completed push up after push up after push up. Sweat beaded on my temples and created rivers down my face, but I didn't stop moving even as drops slipped into my eyes and needled at them with their salty sting. My arms and core were burning from the exertion, but I simply disregarded the feeling and continued the steady motion, up and down, up and down.

Thirty three, thirty four, thirty five…

If the world imploded, the definition of push ups would not change.

Thirty nine, forty, forty one, forty two…

If my sister sprained her wrist and fractured three fingers, the definition of push ups would stay the same.

Forty five, forty six…

If one of my best friends announced she was dating the annoying new guy who had weaseled his way into what seemed like all aspects of my life, the definition of push ups wouldn't give a damn. A push up would always be a push up, and the simplicity of that constant gave me the support I was craving when I just felt like pulling an Ella and going into hysterics. I loved my sister, and I hated seeing her hurt in any way. Hated it.

"Max, you're shaking."

A soft voice broke through my thoughts, and as soon as it registered, my concentration rippled drastically. All of that comforting strength and numbness fled my body and shattered into instant oblivion. Reality came screeching back, and I could suddenly feel the dull ache in my biceps and the shudders racking my back.

Needless to say, I immediately collapsed, elbows buckling under my seemingly immense weight. Holding myself up in a simple push up suddenly became akin to trying to stand up with a boulder glued to my back.

Basically, it sucked.

My chin jarred against the hardwood floor as I plopped downwards, but I barely noticed the pain as my teeth crashed together. I simply turned my head to the side and lay with my cheek pressed to smooth, cool wood. My stomach muscles were aching, and I could feel sweat trickling downwards all over me.

A few tears joined the moisture slipping down my face, and I desperately hoped that Fang would mistake them for more sweat. Since the rest of me was sweating, it should only stand to reason that my eyes would be too. Right?

I was only laying there for about five seconds before a strong pair of hands gathered me up like a bedraggled stuffed animal. I fell backwards against Fang's chest, feeling strangely small and frail as he hugged me to him. I'm Max Ride— feeling frail is not something that is common for me. It was really strange, and took me a moment to adjust, but once I was used to it, it actually felt… good.

Yeah, it definitely felt good.

"Ella's okay, Max," Fang whispered, his breath slipping past my ear in a warm cloud. "The doctor said she'll be out of the brace in two weeks. But if you collapse from exhaustion now, your mom won't let you play tomorrow either, we'll be up against the Trojans with you, Ella and Nudge out."

I couldn't help it. I tensed at the sound of Nudge's name.

It hurt, okay? I know I had told her it was fine if she liked Dylan and everything, but that was mostly to get back on her good side. I'm a horrible person, whatever, but to be perfectly honest that Dylan guy just gave me no good vibes whatsoever. I could sense his bad apple-ness almost immediately, and usually I'm not wrong on these character analysis things. So for Nudge to suddenly announce she was dating him right after my mini emotional breakdown was kind of a suckerpunch.

She had known him for all of… what, a day and a half? Wasn't that a bit hasty to start a relationship? Apparently not, in Nudge and Dylan's books. I wonder what kind of crap they read.

Great. Now I was resorting to cracking uselessly corny jokes to keep myself distant from reality. Next thing you know I'll be in Richie's office again, right alongside Iggy as we complain about our problems.

"Max," Fang interrupted my thoughts gently, rocking me back and forth as we sat there in the middle of the living room floor. "You did fifty six push ups just now. I think you should stretch out and cool down."

I nodded wordlessly, my head clipping his chin in its bobbing. Neither of us spoke, but we both knew I wasn't going to move out of Fang's arms. I was perfectly comfortable right here, and I had a sinking suspicion that as soon as he let go of me I'd be cranking out another fifty push ups from sheer stress.

"You're all sweaty," Fang remarked, keeping the one-sided conversation alive. Well, this was a drastic switch of positions. Usually I was the one who spoke and he was all taciturn and Fang-ish.

I shrugged. "Like you said: push ups," I replied simply. "Physical labor usually produces sweat." Unless you're some sort of creeper super human or something, sweat is usually present during push ups.

"Why exactly did you start doing push ups?" Fang inquired, sounding kind of bemused.

I had expected this question, and had been planning out a safe answer for at least four minutes. Hopefully my reply wouldn't raise any more questions from my overly-perceptive boyfriend. "When I get nervous or angry or scared, I have to do something physical," I explained. "Like running laps or… doing push ups. It calms me down, drains my emotion or some crap like that."

I could feel Fang's chin moving slowly against the top of my head as he nodded in response. I felt a bit guilty about leaving something kind of important out of that explanation, but hey! I was having a rough day as it was. I didn't need Fang to find out about my past anger management issues to add to my stress. I hadn't hit anyone in serious anger since fifth grade, and consequently Mom had stopped sending me to crappy therapists when we moved to California. It's not like those idiots ever helped, anyway. I just got angry every now and then, it wasn't like I was depressed or God forbid, suicidal or anything.

Well, I hadn't hit anyone since fifth grade… except for those Flare girls. They had broken my peaceable streak, and if that one action sent me back to therapy, God so help me I would get my revenge.

I could bury the past now, and bury it I would.

"Nervous, angry, or scared," Fang repeated softly. His thoughtful tone broke me out of my thoughts, and I tensed up again. Would he make the connection? "I don't know if I've ever seen you nervous, so I don't know about that," he continued, his arms gripping a little tighter around me. It almost seemed like he was afraid I would try to escape his embrace. "But scared… you just did push ups because you were scared about Ella, and you run laps at school when you're angry."

He didn't connect. My shoulders started relaxing, and I felt relief starting to lap at the tight ball of worry in my chest.

"And you went wild yesterday when Nudge broke her wrist. You took those girls out like they were—"

I didn't let him finish that sentence. Instead I started to struggle against his arms, tried to break free of his hold. What had been so comforting moments before now seemed to constrict my every breath.

He was connecting. Oh God, he was connecting it.

"Max, what's wrong?" Fang asked urgently, tightening his grip on me so I wouldn't flee. "Max! Why are you— stop!"

I couldn't stop. He was going to find out, and he was going to leave me. I knew I shouldn't have trusted my heart with someone. Hadn't Sam taught me that? And Sam hadn't even known about my less-than-perfect past.

Fang would figure it out. He was smarter than Sam, more clever, and so much more perceptive there wasn't even a comparison between the two. Fang would find out every shameful detail of my anger issues, the exact events that happened so long ago that all I could remember were fists, faces, and screams.

Omega, Darla, Jack, and Mike. They were the ones I remembered the most. Fifth grade was hands down the worst year of my life, with no competition whatsoever from any other year. I used to have a crush on Omega, with his blue eyes and perfect blond hair, and his almost scary devotion to baseball. He loved baseball the way I loved soccer, and we could relate easily. Darla was beautiful and sweet, my best friend in the world in Florida. Jack was quiet and sweet, and won my friendship by sharing his cookies with me when I forgot my lunch on the first day of school. And Mike— poor, neglected Mike. He was an orphan, a foster child angry at the world. I was his friend because he needed me, and somehow my eleven year old self had understood that. Mike needed my friendship like Omega had needed baseball, like Darla needed Jack, like Jack needed Mike himself.

But in the end, I was the one who brought everything we had crashing down.

"It was all my fault," I muttered brokenly, still straining against Fang's arms.

His grip didn't falter, keeping me close against him. "What was your fault? What are you talking about?" Fang asked gently.

"I can't tell you!" I snapped, trying to fight the urge to punch him. I couldn't do that. No, I would not sink to that level. Never again.

"Max, just tell me why-"

"Fang," I interrupted desperately. I tried to press all of my urgency into that one word, tried to make him see that I couldn't explain anything. "You don't want to know anything about what I used to do to deal with my anger." My eyes dropped down to my hands, clenched and tight, itching to hit someone or something.

Never again.

"I do want to know, Max," Fang insisted. "I want to help you."

My heart tore a little at that one, I have to admit. "I don't need any help," I replied resolutely. Those damn therapists gave me too much help. I had enough help to last a lifetime— there was no way I needed more. Not even from Fang.

"Max," Fang murmured, tightening his grip on me even further. His voice was strangely comforting and pleading all at once. My fists twitched involuntarily, and a twinge of dread clenched in my stomach.

Hit him.

The thought whispered silkily through my mind, a satin ribbon of danger curling through my head. My tight fists spasmed in response, and a flood of ominously familiar anger crashed through my senses.

Hit him.

My body acted on its own, twisting craftily out of Fang's hold and rolling into a kneeling position several feet away from him. Fang looked at me with shock clear on his face, his arms still stretched out towards me.

Hit him.

The biceps of each arm tightened, muscle clenching almost painfully as I fought the horrible urge to lash out. I couldn't look away from his eyes, couldn't tear my gaze from his surprised face. I loved him. I would not harm Fang.

"Max?" Fang's voice sounded strangely small in my head, dwarfed by the screams of the thoughts begging me to strike him. Vaguely, I registered Mom and Anne still chatting by the front door, the teapot steaming in the kitchen, the soft ticking of the red clock on the wall. It was such a strangely normal setting for such dark thoughts and such a dramatic scene. Shouldn't it be dark and stormy, or something equally as forboding? The emotions roiling on my inside had no comparison whatsoever to the calm, cheerful atmosphere of the room around me. It was as if the world was mocking me, telling me I wasn't important enough for a proper change of scenery.

Fang's voice broke me out of this feverish, rather creative thought process. "Max, what aren't you telling me?" he asked softly. It was as if he was trying to confront a cornered wild animal without frightening it into attacking.

Hit him!

"No!" I screamed suddenly, springing to my feet. My hands flew up in front of me as I slid into into an automatic fighting stance. It was an almost frighteningly comfortable action, as familiar as tying my shoes. No! Why was this happening now? I had been doing so well… I hadn't hit anybody since fifth grade! Anybody!

Except for Veronica and Thirteen. I was losing my cool, and I didn't like it one bit.

The voices of my mom and coach had halted at my yelling, and now all I could hear was the teapot and the clock. Hissing and ticking filled my mind, combined with those horribly appealing urges to lash out at Fang.

I would not hit Fang.

"Max, you're freaking out," Fang informed me seriously, his eyes brimming with concern. "What's wrong? Ella said—" he took a step closer.

Hit him!

"Ella doesn't know anything," I snapped back, my fists clenching as Fang moved into closer proximity. "And you don't need to either."

"I want to know you, Max," Fang replied earnestly. "Just let me—"

"No!" I yelled again, pressing my back to the wall in a futile attempt to distance myself from Fang. "Don't ask about it! Okay? That's all I'm asking you!"

"I can't just ignore it if you're reacting like this!" Fang retorted, his irritation flaring up for a moment. "Tell me what's wrong. I can help." He stepped closer again. My senses went on hyperdrive, and I was quivering with the stress of suppressing those awful thoughts of bashing out my anger and fear on Fang. I was over violence. My fifth grade friends had taught me that lesson well, that violence wouldn't ever answer my problems. It only succeeded in complicating them further. And yet, the thought kept springing, unbidden, to my mind:

_Hit him!_

My arms sprang out on their own accord, finally succumbing to the dark thoughts wanting to strike. My fists flew toward his chest, aiming for the spots I knew from experience would forcefully knock the breath from his lungs.

Wait, no!

A split second after I had punched forward, something else cried out in my head. This was Fang in front of me, not Omega, not Mike, not anyone else. And I would not hurt Fang. I would not hurt Fang.

I wouldn't hurt him!

My hands opened reflexively at the last second, and instead of punching him hard like initially intended, I managed to soften the blow to a rough, open palmed push. Fang stumbled backward a step, clearly completely thrown by my action.

I was horrified. It didn't matter that I had managed to pull back at the last moment— I had almost hit Fang with the purpose of seriously hurting him. I hadn't changed at all, despite my previously firm belief to the contrary. When the going got tough, I was still depending on my fists. I was still resorting to violence to solve a problem. I was still too easily angered, too easily provoked into hitting someone who didn't deserve it.

_I was still a monster._

My hands dropped, trembling, to my sides, and I stared wordlessly at Fang. "I'm so sorry," I croaked out.

He just stared at me, only his eyes conveying the barest hints of the confusion and hurt I knew he was feeling. "You hit me," Fang said simply.

Those three words were like a chop to the windpipe for me. I suddenly couldn't breathe, the world growing brighter and dimmer all at once. I hit him. I said I wouldn't hit anyone, most certainly not Fang, but I had. I had hit him.

_Monster._

The word clawed at my mind, demanding recognition. I was nothing more than a bully and a monster, and that was the dead truth of the matter. "You deserve better than me," I whispered, my voice cracking mid sentence. My heart tore at the admission of this painful fact, but I couldn't deny it. I couldn't bring myself to look Fang in the eye as I pulled another one of my patented Maximum Ride reactions to trouble.

Before Fang could say a word, I had whirled past him and was sprinting past Anne and Mom, down the front steps, and out to who knew where. I had to run. My choices were either to stay and get furious or crushed and end up hitting someone else, or run. It was an obvious decision to make.

And the thing that bit deeper than anything else? When I chanced a look over my shoulder, Fang was nowhere in sight. He hadn't come after me. And for whatever reason, this hurt more than anything else.

What did I expect? No one wanted a girlfriend or a best friend with violent anger management issues.

But Fang was supposed to be the exception to the rule. He was supposed to be the one who would always chase me when I tried to run away. He was supposed to catch me when I fell. He was supposed to hold me back from stepping into that metaphorical quicksand.

But he was gone now. And I had the worst, sinking belief in my gut that he would stay gone.

And that's when tears started crashing down my face.

* * *

School the next day was absolute hell.

After I had run off, I found myself running that same hidden path that I had stumbled upon in one of my previous blind escapes from Fang. A bitter smile crept onto my face as I realized exactly where I was. It was like my feet were programed to find this exact trail when I was distressed.

I slowed to a walk, gazing around at the lush greenery screening Hidden Path from the rest of the world. It was the perfect hiding place, and I was suddenly glad I had ended up here over anywhere else.

I continuously checked my phone for the time, wondering how soon it would be to safely go home with fear of encountering Fang. The paranoid part of me made me wait a full hour before returning, a full hour of wandering Hidden Path, staring uselessly into space, wishing I had managed to keep my fists under control, and ignoring the constant calls and texts from my worried mom.

There wasn't a single message from Fang.

I had eventually dragged myself home, mumbled some half-baked excuse to my suitably frantic mother, and fell into bed. Sleep was elusive though, and I simply laid in the darkness for hours, staring at the ceiling. The scenes of the afternoon kept replaying in my head, ceaselessly and viciously. Ella hitting the goal post, the fear and dread that had flooded my senses as soon as I saw her crumpled in a heap, the complete emotional shut down I had forced myself to go into to avoid hitting anyone… I blinked, my gaze peppered with the glow in the dark stars that dotted my ceiling.

The trip to the emergency room.

The announcement of Ella's injuries.

The ride home, blurred in my memory from my focus on suppressing the overwhelming urge to bolt away and just keep running.

Helping Ella to bed, watching as her tear streaked face relaxed and she fell into a peaceful sleep.

And of course, my little scene with Fang.

When I blinked again, my vision became strangely foggy, and the stars elongated into twinkling blobs. Only when I felt the wetness on my skin did I realize tears were sliding down my face. It was almost impossible for me to stifle the sob that threatened to tear my chest open, but I managed it. Just barely.

Soft clicking sounds from the hallway stirred me from my thoughts, and I tensed momentarily. Was Mom coming to check on me? I moved so my head was covered by blankets, effectively shielding any teary eyed evidence.

The clicking got louder, accompanied by a light jingling that sounded vaguely like car keys clinking together. I listened as the clicking and clinking approached my bed, pausing for a moment before leaping up to land on my covers. The perpetrator trotted over my shoulder and nestled into the space under my neck, licking my wet cheek with a small, rough tongue. He tucked his little black head into my body, whined softly, and licked my face again.

Getting a dog was the best decision Mom ever made.

"I love you Total," I whispered, stroking his soft little doggy ears with trembling fingers. Total nudged me gently with his wet nose, and I couldn't help but let another tear slip from my eyes. This was the companionship I needed. Someone who wouldn't ask questions I couldn't answer, someone who would cuddle into me and just be there. I lay there with my arms around my dog and tears stinging my eyes for a long time.

You deserve better than me, I told him. And he did. Fang deserved so much better than a moody girl who used her fists when she was too angry or upset to act properly. I couldn't help but remember something Terra had said to me once.

_"You're Max Ride, the hot new chick at Cromwell who managed to befriend THE Fang Rianild in less than a week. The amazing athlete who outstripped Gazzy Richards without trying. The girl who sailed easily onto the soccer team with barely a ripple her freshman year, and the one all the guys are drooling over. You have haters, Max, actual haters! Do you know why? Because you're so damn perfect!"_

If only she could see me now, that 'perfect' outer layer stripped away to reveal a crying girl clutching her dog for dear life. Terra didn't know as much as she thought she did about me. She didn't know about the things I had done in fifth grade. She didn't know about the therapists, about the real reason I had those strange black moods that only wore off when I ran. She only saw who I tried to be, not the girl from the past I was desperately trying to fend off from returning. And that was the way I liked it.

"You won't tell anyone I was crying, will you Total?" I whispered, pressing my lips to his furry black head.

He didn't reply, obviously. My weakness was safe with my dog, at least. I stared at the clock on my nightstand, wondering vaguely if I would ever fall asleep.

The last time I remember glowing on my clock face was 3:28 AM.

Morning came all too fast. I dragged myself out of bed, somehow dressing myself and finding my way downstairs without any coherent thought in the matter. Ella couldn't understand why I was so exhausted and moody. Thankfully, she just figured I was in another one of my trademarked Max moods, and I could just run the whole thing off later and become normal again.

If only, Ella. If only.

Mom seemed to know better than my sister, though. She gave me a cup of hot cocoa smothered in whipped cream, and I saw her slipping a bag of her special chocolate chip cookies into my lunch bag. She didn't say anything about these two occurences, but I knew my mom was worried about me.

I slinked into homeroom as late as I possibly could, wanting to avoid all unnecessary contact with Fang. When I finally plucked up my courage and slipped into the seat beside him, he didn't say a word. We sat in silence for a minute, listening to announcements drone on and on. Then Fang turned in his seat to look at me, and I knew I was in trouble.

"Why did you run?" he asked simply, his dark eyes boring a hole through my head.

I didn't respond, simply staring straight ahead. What could I say? That I didn't ever want to talk about what he obviously was itching to know?

"Max, I know you're listening," Fang continued, his voice soft but persistent. "Please answer."

"I can't tell you," I whispered, feeling my voice crack and wobble as it traveled up my dry throat.

"Why not?" Fang asked, his voice laced with an almost undetectable hurt. "Don't you trust me?"

"More than anyone," I murmured, hugging myself tightly to keep from bolting out of my seat. "But I still can't tell you."

"Why not?" Fang repeated. "You aren't making sense, Max."

Anger flared up in my chest, lighting the soggy mess of emotions bottled there into a suddenly roaring flame. I clenched my fists tightly, focusing on the sharp little pains of my fingernails digging through my palms. I wouldn't get angry again. I couldn't let Monster Max win again. I was over that, she was a thing of the past. "Fang," I breathed, trying to keep my voice soft and even. "Can you please drop it? Please?"

Fang's eyebrows furrowed. "This is important. I'm not going to let you pretend nothing is wrong," he informed me.

"What if I want to pretend?" I asked carefully, praying that something, anything, would cut off this conversation.

"You can't do that to yourself," Fang replied simply. "It's only going to hurt you."

"I can deal with it," I assured him. "You don't need to get wrapped up in a little problem of mine."

"Little problem? Max, you've kept this secret from your own sister," Fang retorted. "What's so bad that you won't even tell Ella the whole truth?"

"Maybe I don't want my sister to think I'm a monster," I croaked, trying to keep my voice down and not attract the attention of any of our classmates. "Maybe I don't want you to think I'm a monster."

"I'm never going to think that," Fang replied instantly. "Max… I love you. How could I ever think you're a bad person?"

Tears pricked at my eyes again, and I blinked furiously in an attempt to get rid of them. I refused to cry anymore, and certainly not with Lissa sitting in front of me. "You would if I told you everything," I whispered.

"I can make my own decision on that… if you told me what's wrong," Fang reasoned.

I didn't reply. I couldn't tell him. Not in the middle of a full classroom, not with a Queen Bitch who hated me waiting to exploit anything bad about me she could sink her claws into. I didn't say anything else to Fang for the rest of homeroom, or on the walk to the science room. And when that class ended, I bolted out the door before Fang could even rise from his seat.

For once, PE did not help me feel better. We ran laps for most of the period, and although I sprinted as hard as I could, nothing melted the shard of ice stuck firmly through my chest.

Iggy was as quiet as I was during history, and although neither of us were called to Richie's office, neither of us were in good spirits either. He stared uselessly ahead of him, chin propped in his hands and lost in thought. I kept my eyes trained on the board, and although I probably appeared attentive, I didn't hear a word Ms. Hell said the whole period.

Iggy and I stood up wordlessly the instant the bell rang, heading to the door and out into the bustling hallway. Iggy was still preoccupied, a little frown creasing his forehead and his stride more careless than normal. It seemed like it wouldn't matter to him if he crashed into a wall, if only he could solve the problem he had been worrying over the entire period of history. I didn't bother him with conversation, knowing exactly how he was feeling.

Iggy led the way to the cafeteria, carving a path through the crowd with his usual scarily effortless precision. We fell onto the bench next to Gazzy, none of us speaking as we opened our lunches and started to eat. I didn't know what to say to anyone right now. All I could hope was that I could successfully avoid Fang for the rest of the lunch period. I had no clue how I would manage to ignore him in art class, but I figured I would wing it when I got there.

Gazzy was acting uncharacteristically moody too today, but I didn't question his silence. After all, I had no place to critique someone else's attitude when my own stank to high heaven. At least Gazzy didn't beat up his best friends to take his anger ou-

I shook my head vigorously. That thinking would get me nowhere fast. Those memories belonged in the past, not here.

"Hey guys!" The perky voice chirping behind me belonged to Terra, but I didn't look up as she slid onto the bench beside Gazzy.

"Hey Terrs," Iggy greeted her tonelessly.

"Hi," was my own short addition.

Gazzy just stared down at the sandwich in his hands, not saying a word.

Terra frowned. "What's up with you guys?" she asked curiously. "Did someone die?"

Iggy shrugged. I just shook my head wearily. "Not that I know of," I sighed.

Gazzy still didn't respond. It appeared that he found his sandwich to be extremely interesting.

Terra's eyebrows shot up, and she looked at us skeptically. "I swear that it feels like a funeral right here," she announced. "Bad vibes, bad vibes. Hey, there's Nudge! She'll perk things up! Nudge! C'mere!" Terra stood up and motioned for Nudge to come join us.

Almost simultaneously, Gazzy and I snapped to attention, searching for the girl in question. There she was, hand in hand with none other than Dylsn Gunther and smiling brightly as the new couple walked towards our table.

"Hey, what's up?" Nudge greeted us cheerfully. "Gaz, you know Dylan, right?"

Gazzy stiffened, his eyes locked on Dylan. "Yeah," he replied shortly. "I've seen you around."

Dylan smiled at Gazzy, flashing that toothpaste commercial smile. "Hey, aren't you that soccer prodigy I've heard so much about?" Dylan asked genially. "From what I've heard, you're pretty much a god on the field."

Gazzy just stared up at him, his eyes flitting blankly between Dylan and Nudge. Then he stood abruptly, almost knocking over Terra's milk carton as he did so. "I have to go," he murmured, slinging his legs over the bench. "Bye guys."

"Wait, Gazzy," Terra tried to say, looking after him in disappointment.

Gazzy had already disappeared in the swirling crowds of the cafeteria.

"I wonder what was up with him," Dylan remarked casually. His disturbingly bright turquoise eyes lit on me, and his smile brightened ten notches. "Hey Max! What's up?" he asked, sounding genuinely glad to see me.

I copied Gazzy's actions here, simply staring up at Dylan and Nudge. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him or argue with Nudge, not after my fight with Fang yesterday and my restless night. I was utterly drained. "Gazzy and I have to…" I trailed off, trying to think up a good excuse while I slowly stood up and inched off the bench.

Absolutely nothing suitable came to mind.

Screw this. "Bye," I said quickly, not even bothering to finish my first sentence. With that, I snatched my lunch from the tabletop and hurried off out of the cafeteria.

"But Max!" Terra called behind me, sounding confused. With a twang of guilt, I ignored her call and simply forged ahead until the noise of the cafeteria swallowed up her voice.

But guess who I had to bang into?

I crashed into someone in my blind rush to get away from Dylan and Nudge, someone I definitely didn't want to see right now. But destiny hates me, and no matter what that Hunger Games chick says, the odds are never in my favor. So obviously the person I collided with was none other than—

"Hi Max," I said, as blandly and coldly as possible.

Max II, who had staggered backwards from the force of our collision, started to smirk. "Max," he greeted me cordially. "Long time no see. But must we always so literally bump into each other like this?"

I shrugged, wanting to get away from him as soon as I could. "It's fate," I replied blankly. "Good bye."

As I started to move away again, j could hear Max II call out, "Good luck in your game today, Max! You're going to need it against Frida!"

As I forged away, I couldn't help but wonder a bit at Max II's strange farewell. Who the hell was Frida?

* * *

Art class was a very tense and uncomfortable affair.

Why wouldn't it be? After all, Fang and I weren't exactly on good terms right now. I still hadn't wanted to answer any of his questions, so instead of sitting in the empty chair he always reserved for me, I slid into a desk in the back corner of the room.

Even though I didn't want to, I couldn't help but catch his eye to gauge his reaction. Fang was turned in his chair and looking straight at me, a hint of hurt tinting his impassive expression. My heart panged, but I forced myself to stay in my seat. Fang would want to talk about the cause of my little scene yesterday again, and I could not handle that discussion right now.

"Hey Max!" A tall blond someone greeted me cheerfully as they claimed the empty seat beside me. "What's up?"

"I'm not really in the mood to talk to you, Gunther," I replied dully. My eyes were still locked on Fang, even though he had already turned back to face the front of the room. I just couldn't seem to look away from him. Why couldn't he accept that I didn't want to talk about my past? I hadn't pressed on him about those weird-ass scars on his stomach, after all. And I had never even mentioned how his mom told us he and Iggy had been attacked, even though I was dying to know Fang's side of the story on that one.

Dylan nodded sympathetically, drawing me out of my thoughts and back to the conversation. He was acting like he understood, although he obviously didn't. "Nudge said you were upset," Dylan informed me. "I hope it doesn't have anything to do with me asking her out…?"

I shook my head stiffly, irritated that he had guessed the other, smaller reason for my moodiness. "Nudge can do what she wants," I replied tightly. "I can't stop her from dating you." Although, I wished I could.

Dylan nodded again. "That makes sense," he commented. "So I guess I'll be seeing more of you while I'm going out with Nudge?"

Hold the phone. What did he say? I cast Dylan a suspicious look, wondering if his words were meant to hold the meaning I had perceived them to have. "What are you trying to say?" I demanded.

My obvious wariness of his remark made Dylan backpedal furiously. "I'm just saying that since you and Nudge are good friends, I might be around more," he revised hastily. "You know, hanging out with your group."

"I know," I replied shortly. Unfortunately, I had already realized this and forced myself to be resigned to the fate. But why was Dylan pointing this out to me? Was he insinuating that he wanted to hang out with me more? He wasn't going out with Nudge to get to me, was he?

Damn, I over-analyze way too much. Dylan wouldn't date Nudge to hang out with me. That's just messed up. Even with my strong dislike for the guy, I don't think he would stoop that low.

Dylan and I didn't speak again for the rest of the period. Ms. Rykitel was lecturing about some painting by Degas and how we were supposed to imitate his style in the front of the room, but I only vaguely heard what she was saying. I had a soccer game in only two hours, and I had gotten three and a half hours of sleep last night, used far too much energy trying to run off some of my resurfacing memories in PE, and barely eaten anything at lunch. I was gonna suck.

And Anne was gonna be pissed.

Dammit.

* * *

"She didn't tell him?"

"No. Apparently she's trying to keep it as secret as possible."

"That makes sense, but you would think that their connection would make her feel safer telling him."

"So you might think."

The two men fell silent, studying the files in front of them. "So all of our plans are put into action?" the first man confirmed.

"Yes. The first of the attacks has been launched, and it was a bonus that her sister also sustained an injury. Also, our other operative has set his orders in motion, and the third operative will be in action in approximately two hours."

"Excellent."

"So what are we going to do about the women protecting her? There's three now."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, let's sit back and watch the show play out, shall we?"

"Of course, sir."

**hehe, sorry this took so long. I was up past midnight every night for the past two weeks doing homework and crap. -_-" and I had a hard time figuring out exactly what would happen between Max and Fang, and I'm still not completely satisfied... any thoughts?**

**also, does this story appear to have a plot to you? I have to admit that I'm very curious to see what it looks like to someone who doesn't know all of my thoughts and dilemmas about the story...**

**Review and enlighten me! I'll love you forever! XD**

**~TMI~**


	36. And Yet Another Injury

******First of all, I'd like to profusely apologize for having a horribly hectic life. I'm currently on three soccer teams, one dance group, and five music groups, along with being a harried young student with oceans of homework. So forgive me for my appalling lateness of this chapter. I'm also slightly alarmed that I may be slowing down inspiration-wise with this story, but I promise I will fight to keep writing well!**

******DEDICATED TO: all of you! You deserve it for being patient as I pathetically attempt to play writer... =P**

"Lynxes! Everybody in!" Anne yelled, looking up from her clipboard and scanning the field. Obediently, we all stopped mid-kick or mid-juke or whatever and came jogging over to the sideline. I managed, very craftily I might add, to wedge myself in between Ford and Ella so I wouldn't have to stand next to Fang. I could feel his eyes watching me, but I tried to ignore it. Maybe he would eventually figure out I didn't want to talk about it and just let it slide…

When I looked away from Fang and towards my coach, I instantly knew I was in trouble. Anne scrutinized my face for a moment, eyes narrowed at me.

Aww crap.

Thankfully, Anne didn't start to drill me about running off yesterday afternoon in front of all of my team mates. Instead, she started a serious little speech, holding everyone's attention captive. "Yesterday in practice Ella sprained her wrist and broke a few fingers hitting the goal post," Anne started bluntly. "Jack, it wasn't your fault, and it wasn't yours either, Lauri," she announced, staring each of the two in the eye until they stopped looking so horribly guilty. "You were playing the game, and Ella got the short end of the stick in hitting the post instead of landing straight on the turf like Jack did. She'll be perfectly fine in a couple weeks, but for right now we're going to have to change a few things up."

And Anne whipped out her famous clipboard and marker.

Rosanna cracked a small grin at the sight of it. "Some things never change," she murmured. Juliann giggled, and Liz rolled her eyes, shaking her head mockingly at the older girls' silliness.

Anne didn't seem to notice any of this. "I'm putting Devon at sweeper first half, with Liz at stopper, Matt at right wing, Lucas at left. Ford will start out in goal today. You got that, defense?" she confirmed, not looking up as she hashed out the names on her clipboard.

"We got it," Liz answered. The other three boys nodded their assent.

"Good. I'm expecting just as strong a center from you and Devon as the one Nudge and Ella usually put out," Anne replied. She looked up thoughtfully for a moment, then started scribbling another set of name on her clipboard. "Midfield left to right, Sadie, Max, Fang, Juliann. Rosanna and Gazzy up top," she continued. Anne's eyes flicked up to me on one side of the circle, then to Fang on the other. "Max and Fang, I want you two working the center. Shut them down and work us up the field. Don't go more than ten yards apart from each other, and make as many opportunities as you can," she instructed.

Oh, great. She chooses now to have us do all the important teamwork stuff, when he's pissed at me and I'm avoiding him. Great idea, Anne.

"Everyone got their positions?" Anne asked. There was a collective murmur of 'yes', and she snorted at our lack of enthusiasm. "I'm sorry if you're playing a position you aren't too fond of," she continued, "but we have two injuries in the defense that we need to cover. I'll be moving you guys around into a lot of different positions while our sweeper and stopper girls heal."

The ref in the center blew his whistle, beckoning at our huddle. The blue jerseyed figures of the McCarthy captains were already waiting at the center line. "Let's go with Devon and Juliann for captains today," Anne decided. The two players in mention nodded, breaking off from the huddle and jogging towards the refs.

"Hey Anne, I have a question," Sadie piped up. Everyone turned to look at her, slightly surprised. Sadie didn't talk very much, only to communicate on the field. We had been playing together for weeks and I was in her grade, but I still didn't really know very much about her. Sadie didn't talk about herself— she preferred to stick to Liz and let the bubbly, energetic girl do the talking.

"Yeah Sadie?" Anne prompted.

Sadie's dark eyes widened slightly as she realized we were all staring at her, but she continued on nonetheless. "I was wondering that since we've won all of our games so far, what place are we in?" she asked.

"Yeah, has anyone else won every game?" Gazzy asked curiously.

"No," Anne admitted, smiling mischievously at us. Gazzy crowed triumphantly, while Fang just smiled and several other people high fived and grinned. "So we're in first place right now," she continued, "but that doesn't mean you can start slacking off! In fact, McCarthy is right on our tails in second place. We have more goals scored and three wins under our belts, but they've won two games and tied the Mustangs 2-2. So we have to be on our toes today!" Anne warned.

"Sir yes sir!" Ford yelled. Lauri smacked him with one of her goalie gloves, and he shoulder bumped her hard into Matt. "Eww Lauri, your gloves are gross," Ford announced, wrinkling his nose at his fellow goalie.

Lauri rolled her eyes. "You're just jealous of their supreme luckiness," she drawled in reply, hugging her gloves to her chest.

"You spit in them for luck," Ford retorted. "And they smell nasty. I'm soooo jealous."

"Stop bickering," Rosanna ordered. "Jeez, guys, what is with you?"

Lauri grinned toothily at her friend. "It's a goalie thing," she replied condescendingly, as if that fact explained everything.

Actually, it kind of did. It seems to me that all goalies are at least partially insane. I mean, they actually enjoy getting soccer balls launched at them at fifty miles per hour. What sane person wants to do that?

Ford nodded sagely. "Lauri is right," he agreed. "You lesser beings wouldn't understand the way of the keeper."

Rosanna opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted as Juliann and Devon came running back to our huddle. "We're still on that side," Juliann reported, waving her arm toward the side of the field we had been warming up on. "And we have kick off."

"Excellent," Anne replied. "Okay Lynxes, let's play hard! One, two, three—"

"LYNXES!" we roared altogether.

"Wait, Max," Anne's voice made me stop as I started to run out onto the field with everyone else. When I turned around, I saw she was also holding Fang back for a moment. I avoided his eyes, instead focusing on his left shoulder. It was still really strange to see Fang wearing the bright scarlet jersey instead of his normal black, and I tried to think about that instead of on our argument yesterday.

Ahh. Much better.

"Okay, I don't know what made Max flip out yesterday," Anne started, her voice deadly serious, "but I don't care what it is. Make up quickly, or this game is gonna go downhill fast. We need you two to work together to beat this team, and it won't work if you can't even look Fang in the eye, Max." I snapped my eyes guiltily away from Fang's shoulder, looking over to Anne instead. "So go on. Apologize," she ordered.

"Anne—" Fang began, looking ready to argue.

"No arguments! Don't let the team down," Anne warned.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Whatever. I'm not mad at Fang anyway. He's the one who's mad at me," I explained to Anne, trying my best to look bored with the conversation.

Fang's eyebrows rose, and I could feel his gaze narrow in on me. "I'm mad at you?" he asked incredulously. "You're the one who's been avoiding me all day! You sat next to Dylan in art! Dylan!" Fang crossed his arms moodily. Uh oh. It appeared that I had poked a nerve there.

"Only because you won't stop badgering me about something I obviously don't want to talk about!" I fired back. "I can be rude to Dylan without feeling guilty."

"So in your opinion, making me watch my girlfriend choose the guy she hates over me is better than just being rude to my face?" Fang demanded.

I hadn't thought of it that way, actually… now I felt kinda bitchy. I hadn't been trying to hurt Fang's feelings, I just wanted to get away from his incessant questioning. "I really don't want to talk about what you want to know," I told him quietly, avoiding his eyes again.

Fang seemed to soften a tiny bit, then solidified back into a cinderblock wall. "I noticed," he replied dryly.

"So are you two good now?" Anne wanted to know. "The game has to start any second now!"

As if in response, the referee blew his whistle a couple times in impatience, glaring at us on the sideline. I fought the urge to whirl around and tell him to pipe down, but just barely. I was so close to screaming it wasn't even funny…

Personally, I blamed a shameful lack of bacon consumption as the main source of my irritability. It had nothing to do with my pitiful lack of sleep last night, Fang, Nudge, or Dylan. No sirree.

"I'm fine," I managed to say neutrally, banishing thoughts of bacon from my mind. Fang nodded shortly in response.

Anne looked between the two of us, obviously skeptical of our less than enthusiastic answers. "All right then," she said doubtfully. "Get out there and play!"

We nodded again, and without looking at each other turned and ran into the center of the field. I could feel Anne's gaze on my back the whole way there, boring into my mind and fishing out the truth of the matter. Fang and I were not fine, it was that simple. I just wished he would let it go, and I would be completely fine again.

"What was that about?" Juliann wanted to know. "Strategy?"

"Yeah, something like that," I hedged, not looking at my fellow midfielder as I spoke. "Charge at the ball as soon as they touch it, okay?"

The ref blew his whistle, and the game began.

To put it lightly, the first few minutes were slightly disastrous.

I was reacting too slowly, still kind of drained from my horrible day. Fang and I were not connecting at all, either. Something was still stiff between us, unyielding and making us hesitate in our passing. The McCarthy offense was swift and effective, and they were pounding our defense pretty roughly. When Juliann attempted to get past one of the forwards, the other girl slammed one bright pink cleat into the ball, actually flipping Juliann over with the force of the blow.

Jeez. That girl was a power house.

She continued to barrel down the field, and it took Sadie, Liz, and Lucas to halt her progress and steal the ball. Liz quickly dispatched it up the field, sending it soaring over to Gazzy. He pulled a quick stepover around a defender, then raced off down the field. As I chanced a look backwards, I caught a glimpse of the power house forward actually cussing Liz out while the ref wasn't looking. Liz frowned, but didn't say anything in return as she tossed her ponytail and jogged away. Atta girl— Liz was too confident to let a forward's trash talk bother her.

I gritted my teeth. It looked like someone needed to be taken down a peg or two. I would be glad to help Ms. Diva Forward with that.

The first quarter passed rather uneventfully, with my lovely forward friends leading the game's action. Gazzy almost slid in a few of his trademark beautiful goals, but the McCarthy goalie had just barely managed to deflect all of his shots. Needless to say, this was irritating Gazzy to no end, and he was beginning to pull wilder and wilder stunts in his desperate attempts to sneak one past the goalie's blue and gray gloves. Faster than a sparrow, more agile than a starling, fiercer than a hawk, and more clever than a raven, Gazzy pounced on the ball over and over, lobbing shot after shot at the goal.

None of them hit the net.

Fang and I weren't helping him very much either though, making next to no good passes through the midfield. Usually we can read each other pretty well, and tend to work nicely together in center midfield, but today our conflict was still hanging heavily over us. I could barely bring myself to meet Fang's eyes yet, let alone work out a good play with him. So we struggled on solo, passing only with our outside mids and Gaz or Rosanna. Anne was yelling at us to get our heads in the game, but it didn't do very much to motivate us.

My heart was starting to hurt. I really didn't like not being able to connect with Fang. How could I resolve this problem?

_Just tell him about your damn history!_ a little voice inside of me snapped impatiently. _It's not that hard!_

But… I couldn't stand it if Fang hated me because of my stupid past. If he knew about my fifth grade friends, would he still want to go out with me? Hell, would he even still want to be my friend?

I would never be able to answer those questions if I never told him. And it wasn't fair to Fang either to withold the truth, I supposed. It wouldn't be fair to let him think I was perfect, not when I was so drastically far from it.

Suddenly, a ball came speeding towards my face. I flinched, reflexively heading it away from me. Thankfully, it hit the right spot on my hairline, bouncing away for Rosanna to trap and speed away with. Phew. That was a close one.

"Max! Pay attention! You got lucky on that one!" Anne screamed at me.

Dammit. I was hoping she had noticed my little space out. "Sorry, won't happen again!" I called back, trying to sound repentant. Quickly, I jogged down the field, attempting to both look productive and put some distance between Anne and myself.

I would have to save thoughts like that for later. Right now I had a game to win.

On the other side of the field, the McCarthy forward was still trying to bash her way through our defense. It was actually a semi-good thing that Ella and Nudge weren't playing their usual center defense positions, considering both of them were inclined to be divas when it came to getting hit. Neither appreciated shoving very much, and it took very little to set Nudge off when she was on her game. It was just safer for all involved that she wasn't out there being pushed around by that forward girl, who would probably be at least five inches taller than her. At least one person might end up in the hospital.

I could just imagine the look on the Emergency Room nurse's face. She was the large, squarish one with blonde hair and gray eyes, and had been there the past two days we had visited the ER. She sat primly at the front desk, peering at her computer and tapping away incessantly. She would look up, wondering what the next exciting emergency would be, only to find Fang, Nudge, Ella and I again, once more crowding her clean waiting room with an injured player, our dirty cleats, sweaty soccer uniforms, and lovely stench of grass and perspiration all packed into one delightful group of athletes.

She would be thrilled.

Hopefully, that scenario wouldn't actually become reality. I focused on the forward, whom I happened to be guarding at the moment. The girl was even taller and slimmer than me, with long, brown-black hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail and hazel eyes. Makeup coated her eyes, cheeks, and lips, and odd pink streaks ran down her thighs and forearms.

She was number thirteen.

This was beginning to bug me. I absolutely hate when other players have the same number or same cleats that I do. The cleats thing really irritates me because it's more uncommon, but the number thing irks me a lot too, even though I know it's irrational. Thirteen wasn't really an uncommon number, so I was often annoyed by that particular problem. But this girl, this overly made up, overly pushy girl was just radiating a disgustingly superior aura that I did not appreciate. This Barbie doll was disgracing the number thirteen.

A McCarthy boy threw the ball in, making it arc over the heads of at least five people and drop towards Barbie and I. Instantly, she sprang into action, jabbing an elbow into my ribs as she jumped forward to trap the ball. I let out a short grunt at the sharp pain in my torso, but I was determined that she wouldn't get the upper hand because of dirty moves. Just as she was about to trap the ball on her thigh, I lunged forward and kneed the ball wildly out of the air. Consequently, I had to swerve mid-leap and lurch out of the way so I wouldn't land on/get trampled by Barbie.

Miraculously, my blind kneeing of the ball actually got it to one of my team mates. Sadie quickly settled the ball, dribbled a few steps, and passed to Rosanna, who took off down the field.

Barbie glared at me as I regained my balance. "You got lucky on that one, bitch," she snarled.

I blinked. "Whoa there tiger," I replied, raising an eyebrow at her. "I'm playing my game here, and I'd just love it if you would shut your trap and play clean."

"Sorry sweetie, but my mother told me never to talk to retards," she spat back. And with a wave of that banner-like ponytail, Barbie flounced off towards the play.

People these days just don't know how to behave in public.

I checked up and down the field, then discreetly flipped off Barbie's back. Grinning madly like a six year old who's just succeeded in stealing an Oreo from the cookie jar, I skedaddled down the field back towards the play. Suddenly, I was feeling much better. Isn't that strange?

Hey, I never claimed that I could behave well in public either.

The half ended zero-zero, with a very unhappy Liz and Devon leading the way off the field. "Number thirteen is a total asshole," Devon complained, not even bothering to watch his language in front of Anne. "Did you see her foul on me? That was an obvious trip, but did the ref care? Noooo! Blame the boy, not the girl! Sexist!" he declared passionately.

"Chill, Dev," Liz told him, wincing as she touched her ribs lightly. "He didn't call half of Thirteen's fouls on me either, and the other half he blamed me for the foul!" The normally sweet natured Liz scowled darkly, narrowing her eyes at the memory. "The ref isn't sexist, he's just blind," she concluded, "and she elbowed me in the ribs, too. It really hurt!"

"Their goalie is pretty good, too," Gazzy chipped in, looking slightly put out. "I'm starting to get annoyed with my shots."

"And their sweeper is as pushy as Thirteen," Rosanna reported, frowning. "I feel your pain, Liz. I'm getting elbowed a lot up there." She rubbed her side gently, pushing some flyaway hairs back from her eyes before continuing. "And no offense, but I could use a lot more support from the midfield," she added.

"Sorry," Fang murmured. "I'm not very used to that position. More used to forward, you know?"

It was a good lie, one that couldn't really be argued. Fang was a forward, and it was a valid point if he wasn't doing very well in center mid that it was because of his usual position being further up the field.

Unfortunately for me, I had no such lie to fall back on. I was a center midfielder, and I was supposed to kick ass at this position. There was no excuse for me other than that I was having problems working with my fellow center, and I couldn't say that without sending all of my team mates into a frenzy over my relationship with Fang. It was a legitimate concern; when Rosanna, Juliann, and Lauri had heard that I was dating Fang, they practically declared a national holiday. I doubt they would take the news of our current dilemma very lightly, and I couldn't let them get distracted from their game because Fang and I couldn't agree on something.

So I just mumbled, "Sorry," and fell silent again, staring at the label of my Gatorade.

"Okay, what have we learned this half?" Anne asked, raising her eyebrows at us.

"Thirteen has elbows of steel?" Liz grumbled.

"I should avoid the dude playing sweeper?" Rosanna remarked dryly.

"I need my stupid shots to actually hit the back of the net?" Gazzy groaned.

"We need to all calm down, focus, and play our game," Anne declared firmly. "You're letting their antics get in your heads, and it's changing your game play. Don't let them control the game. Play the way you Lynxes usually play: fast, furious, and beautifully controlled." Anne stared us all down, gray eyes stormy and dead serious. "And leave your ridiculous highschool drama on the sidelines!" she added, wrinkling her nose.

I could've sworn I saw Danny glance over at Nudge, who sat on the bench fiddling with a loose thread on her brace. She didn't notice him looking, but he didn't move his gaze for a full ten seconds before lowering his eyes to the grass. Danny looked somewhat defeated, a strange emotion for him, when he was usually so sunny and charming. I wondered what was wrong with him?…

And then it hit me. Dylan. He must have heard about Dylan asking Nudge out, and Nudge saying yes. I winced involuntarily, imagining the disappointment that must have caused him. Why didn't he ask Nudge out sooner? Then I wouldn't have the stupid problem with her and Dylan in the first place…

While I was quietly seething at the injustice of the world, Anne was lecturing to the team about positioning. "I want you all to stay disciplined in your positions," she explained. "I know that some of you are playing relatively unfamiliar positions because of our cripple crew here, but that's no excuse to stray from your spots."

"Cripple crew?" Nudge whined. "I am insulted!"

"Well, at least we've got a special name," Ella mumbled halfheartedly.

"Quiet in the cripple crew," Ford teased.

"Oh, shut up," Nudge retorted.

"As I was saying," Anne cut in pointedly. Ford and the cripple crew fell obediently silent, watching our coach as she scribbled on her beloved clipboard. "I'm going to move a few of you around again, see if we can scare us up some goals," she decided. We all watched quietly as red ink flowed from Anne's pen, tracing out and erasing names in their respective areas of the field.

"Since Fang and Max can't work together today, I'm separating you two," Anne remarked, erasing our names from the center midfield positions. I could hear the annoyance and disappointment in her voice, and shame bubbled up in my stomach. I had let my own problems get in the way of my game— that was inexcusable on my part.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, staring hard at my Gatorade.

Anne pretended not to hear, obviously still irritated with my crappy performance in the first half. "Fang, you're moving up to forward with Gazzy. I expect a goal out of at least one of you," she instructed them. Both boys nodded, and Gazzy grinned and flashed a thumbs up at Fang. "Rosanna, you're gonna come out for a little while, okay?" Anne continued, replacing the older girl's name with Fang's on the clipboard.

"Mkay," Rosanna agreed. She wiped sweat from her temple, taking a swig of water before adding, "I'm fine with getting a break from that pushy sweeper anyway."

Anne smiled slightly. "I'm glad you're happy," she replied. "Max, you're taking over sweeper, and Danny will be your stopper. Matt and Jack on the outside defense, Liz left wing mid and Devon right, with Sadie and Juliann in the center. Lauri will take this half in goal. Everyone got it?" Anne confirmed, capping her pen with a flourish and looking around at us.

"Kick Thirteen's ass for me, Max," Devon instructed me seriously as we all stood up and started to mill around.

I grinned at him. "It will be my pleasure," I replied formally, tacking on a British accent for effect. Devon grinned back, then turned away to retie his cleats.

He really seemed to dislike Barbie. I would have to make sure to watch out for her while I was playing sweeper. There was no way I was letting it be my fault that a Barbie messed up our winning streak by scoring on us while I was at sweeper. Nuh uh, over my dead, frozen cold body.

I capped my Gatorade and tossed it back in my bag before falling onto the bench next to Ella. "Having fun, cripple crewer?" I teased.

She sighed dramatically, propping her chin in her good hand. The other was tucked safely into her sweatshirt pocket, and I was secretly relieved that I didn't have to look at it. It hurt to see my sister injured, and I didn't want to feel any more hurt right now. "I just wish I was out on the field," Ella admitted, gazing out longingly over the turf. "I'm not used to being injured. That's your job, Max," she added mischievously.

I rolled my eyes, but I'm grinning because we both know it's true. "Whatevs. I'll enjoy my physical health while it lasts," I retorted. "I was just checking in to make sure you were doing okay."

"Oh, we're keeping each other company right now Max," Nudge assured me, poking her head around Ella to look at me. "Cripple crew has to stick together, you know."

"Get out there, Max, the game is about to start," Ella instructed me, glancing up at the other team taking the field. "And you better rule at my position, or else," she warned me.

"Will do, baby sister," I replied, throwing her a mock salute as I hopped off the bench. "I'm already under strict orders from Devon to kick Barbie's butt," I added.

"Barbie?" Nudge queried. "Is that the girl with the weird pink streaks all over and the makeup mask?"

"How'd you guess?" I deadpanned. Nudge pouted, and I grinned back at her. "Yeah, that's her. She's been pushing Devon, so he assigned me to taking her down," I explained.

Ella furrowed her brow. "Be careful Max," she warned. "Contrary to popular belief, you aren't invincible. And that girl's pretty big."

"Don't fret too much, Ells," I told her, brushing off her sisterly concern. "I'll be fine."

The ref's whistle screamed across the field, and I winced at the sharp noise. "Gotta go," I announced. And with that, I turned and trotted out onto the field. I settled into position, looking at my defense spread around me, then back at Lauri in the goal.

"Give em hell, Max," she instructed me, smiling as she flexed her hands inside her goalie gloves.

The game restarted with McCarthy having the kickoff, but their initial advantage only lasted approximately seven seconds. The reason for this was a certain pair of forwards by the names of Gazzy Richards and Fang Rianild.

Gazzy ran directly at the forwards taking the kickoff almost the moment they touched the ball, forcing them to pass hastily backwards to a midfielder. The boy prepared to launch the ball into our defense, but just as his foot made contact with it, Fang's black cleat slid in and spun it away to Juliann, who immediately started up the field. Fang got quickly to his feet and hurried after the play, dark eyes utterly focused on the ball.

"Nice slide tackle, Fang!" Anne yelled approvingly from the sideline.

I smiled in agreement, then urged my defense to move up the field. We settled around our forty yard line, watching the play unfold up at the top of McCarthy's goal box. Players surged around the mouth of the goal, possession constantly changing and bouncing from player to player, team to team.

And before we knew it, the ball was spinning in the back of the net.

Sadie leaped in the air and fistpumped, a wide grin breaking out across her normally calm, serious face as she celebrated her goal. Our team mates swarmed around her, handing out high fives and shouting approval as they escorted Sadie back down the field.

Barbie scowled, gritting her teeth and kicking moodily at the turf. A shower of black pellets sprang up from beneath her fuschia cleat, hitting Juliann in the back of the leg as she passed. Someone just did not feel very sportsmanlike today, and I was pretty sure we all knew who it was except for the one person who it mattered to know.

The ref.

I swear, a blind, deaf, directionally challenged goblin would have been a better referee than this dude. He was slow and, err, _rotund_, and seemed to think he was getting paid to stand in the middle of the field and look pretty. And if that had really been his job, I wouldn't have even paid him for that. He wasn't looking very pretty, in my opinion.

McCarthy sullenly brought the ball back up to the midline, and the play restarted. Faster than I thought possible, Fang darted in and crashed his foot into the ball just as Barbie tried to launch it down the field. The ball spun high into the air, and a McCarthy player managed to head it down before any of us could get to it.

We played even faster and harder than before, cleats cracking into shins as often as they made contact with the ball. I learned multiple times over to bless my shinguards, which were so far holding up through the abuse. Thank the lord for Adidas.

Liz suddenly snatched the ball away from a guy on McCarthy, spinning around and launching it up the right side of the field. Devon picked up his pace, streaking down the sideline to catch up with the ball before the defenders did. "Everybody UP!" I yelled, my voice ringing across the field as I broke into a jog. My defense moved up with me, and within seconds we were all stationed at midline or higher, waiting to see how the play would pan out.

Barbie waited beside me, the last defender, her long ponytail floating in the breeze. It had that look that hair gets when it's obvious that it belongs to a girl who worships her straightening iron— almost unnaturally flat and smooth. Her bright pink limb streaks looked like they were simply long strips of some sort of flexible tape, which still struck me as weird. Who does that? They served absolutely no purpose.

While I was getting distracted over Barbie's odd fashion choices, my team was still fighting fiercely for the ball in the McCarthy goal box. Liz zeroed in on the ball, but just as she was about to lob it into the net, a McCarthy defender launched it out of their goal area. The ball sailed gracefully into the air, descending to bounce at the feet of Matt and the forward he was guarding.

Matt's forward sprang on the ball instantly, and although Matt tried valiantly to stay with him, the forward raced off down the field with several feet of a head start. No one else was close enough to intervene, seeing as our offense was still crowded at the other end of the field and my defense had their own people to cover. No one on the Lynxes was as fast as me, either, and I knew full well that I would be the only one who would be capable of catching up to this speed demon.

But chasing down this stray forward meant leaving Barbie unmarked, something I sorely did not want to do. Matt was too far behind to trade spots with me in time, that was perfectly clear to me. I would just have to grit my teeth and risk it, counting on running like the wind and praying that Speedy Forward Boy wouldn't pass off to Barbie as soon as I detached myself from her.

I thought all of this in the space of perhaps three seconds, my mind whirling almost faster than I could consciously comprehend. It was something that happened when I was active: I thought faster than I could really physically process, and yet I still knew exactly what I had to do. And as soon as I thought, I acted.

I curved my run to cut down the distance between me and Speedy Forward Boy, forcing my legs to move faster than strictly comfortable. Within seconds I had caught up to SFB, forcing him to a relative halt as I trapped him next to the sideline. He looked shocked that I had actually managed to catch him, but his disbelief faded quickly as his gaze roamed beyond my shoulder. With an arrogant grin that made my stomach sink with dread, he chipped the ball high over my head, sending it flying into the center of the field.

I knew without having to look that an unmarked, completely open Barbie was receiving the ball.

"Damn," I hissed, turning sharply on my heel and racing back to the center. SFB and I had left pretty much everybody at least twenty yards behind us in our mad dash— everyone except for a suspiciously un-winded Barbie doll who was currently dribbling furiously towards our goal.

Towards _MY_goal.

That would simply not do.

So I poured on the speed, feeling the need to catch her pulsing through my veins, an energy source I could draw on to quicken my pace. As I finally closed in on her and was running by her side, we were already too close to the goal box, and she was keeping almost inhumanly firm possession of the ball.

Basically, Barbie had the ball, and she was going to score. She knew it, and I knew it.

I had to stop her.

I sped up, sprinting as fast as I could without making any bad moves that could allow Barbie to shake me off. If she juked me now, we would risk tying or even losing the game. We would lose our winning streak, and with that would go our unchallenged grip on first place.

I could not let that happen.

Barbie kept trying to cut around me, but we both knew she had to get to the goal quickly, or my team would finally catch up and her golden opportunity would vanish. Barbie rocketed suddenly in Lauri's direction, apparently praying that her speed alone would be enough to throw me off.

It wasn't. Apparently Barbie wasn't very observant of the fact I had just caught SFB without too much stress, and she was most certainly unaware of my undisputed status as the fastest freshman at Cromwell High. I kept pace with Barbie, not exactly easily, but not with huge difficulty either. She tried again to burst past me, but I kept stubbornly by her side.

We were inside the goal box now, and Barbie took one final, desperate step. I could see Lauri nervously sidestepping on the goal line out of the corner of my eye. Her arms were spread wide, and the dark blonde ponytail hanging down her back was whipping about furiously.

I processed this in the back of my mind, the forefront of my thoughts all focused on Barbie and the ball. I watched, almost in slow motion, as Barbie pulled back her foot and swung towards the ball. My mind blurred, unconsciously tracking the path of her foot: it would be a perfect kick, no doubt a beautiful goal. Lauri wouldn't have a chance.

That is, Lauri wouldn't have a chance if Barbie shot the ball. I could prevent her from shooting, and prevent her I would most definitely do.

Without a second thought I forced my body forward, stepping swiftly in front of the ball with my right foot. Barbie's heavily made up eyes widened a fraction, but she couldn't juke me. She was too far into her shot. I gazed at my foot, planted in the grass next to the ball, and Barbie's foot, clad in that ridiculously neon pink cleat.

It was one of those moments where time halted. For a brief moment, I could clearly study her cleat: the orange-on-pink Nike swish, the broken aglets, and the tiny print on the side— a small silver label declaring the shoe to have 'POWER'.

Then time restarted, and the fuchsia cleat collided with the ball, sending it rocketing towards the goal. Unfortunately for Barbiekins though, my foot stopped it before it flew three inches, though. Or more correctly, my ankle stopped it.

The ball slammed hard into my ankle, and was soon followed by Barbie's horribly pink cleat. The ball made my ankle wobble inwards, while Barbie's foot hooked it and somehow pulled it outwards as she fell. I watched the scene, still feeling oddly stuck in slow motion. The ball flew off and landed neatly in Lauri's green gloves; Barbie skidded on the grass, trying to maintain her balance; my ankle buckled awkwardly, sending me crashing to the ground. Blinding white obscured my vision, and all I saw was brightness, accompanied by a pain that seemed, in a way, too high-pitched to fully register. Dully, I felt something solid painfully clip my left foot, knocking me clean off my feet. I landed hard on my back, momentarily shocked, and that's when a heavy body landed elbows-first on my stomach. All the air left my lungs in one burst, and I was left gazing curiously into white oblivion, surrounded by a strange pain I couldn't completely feel nor understand.

"Get off her!" an indignant female voice snarled. Immediately, the heavy weight on my stomach disappeared, and someone touched my arm. "Max, are you okay?"

It was Lauri, I realized hazily. Lauri was good. She could pound the Barbie for me. Excellent.

I could hear more footsteps pounding towards me, cleats muffled by the turf. "Max! Are you hurt?" another voice cried out. After a moment of pondering, I identified it as Danny. Good. Another person to help me kill the Barbie. She had tried to conquer the Cromwell Lynxes! Danny would not take kindly to that attitude. No sirree.

I felt the next voice as much as I heard it. "Max, are you okay? Answer me," the voice instructed softly.

An involuntary smile spread on my face, a glowing warmth pressing through the white pain. The voice was calm and collected, and it cared about me. That voice cared about me a lot. I stared dreamily into the white brightness, my smile growing as I realized that fact. That beautiful voice cared about me. It really did.

The high-pitched pain seemed to grow suddenly, and I flinched. "Ow," I mumbled, then halted. I was surprised that I had spoken at all. The white oblivion faded a little, then slowly vanished completely. I was shocked to find myself flat on the grass, my eyes wide open towards the sky, surrounded by teammates and Anne. "I'm fine," I murmured, blinking slowly.

I sat up on my elbows and looked for the owner of the last voice. He was kneeling right beside me, his dark eyes trained on my own brown ones. His usual unemotional mask was in tatters, and I could see his worry clearly shining through. "I'm fine," I said, a little louder. I scrambled to get up, but when I moved my right ankle, the white brightness flooded my vision again. It was just for a few seconds, but it threw me off enough to fall back onto my elbows, the friction of the turf burning my skin.

Blinking rapidly, I waited until the whiteness faded, then realized belatedly that my ankle was the source of both the whiteness and the high-pitched pain. "Scratch that," I remarked calmly, looking down to inspect the injury. "Something is screwy with my ankle."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Gazzy muttered. I ignored him. Instead, I managed to hop gracelessly to my feet and began limping gingerly towards the sideline. I was reduced to dumbly blinking away the whiteness that threatened to overflow my eyesight once more in order to keep walking in a straight line.

Crap. This was pathetic. I was supposed to be the injury poster girl here, and I was seizing up at an injured ankle. Wow.

I was only four steps towards the sideline when a pair of strong arms scooped me up. I scowled at the arms' owner, trying to ignore the pain in my ankle, the horribly familiar dropping sensation in my stomach from being picked up, and the further stomach plummeting from feeling Fang's heart pounding against my side.

"Put me down," I stated firmly, curling my fingers around the collar of his jersey and tugging in protest. Fang shook his head wordlessly, simply reasserting his grip on me as he marched towards the sideline. "I can walk. You need to get back to the game, Fang," I insisted, hoping he would want to go back to playing soccer and let me limp over to the sideline with a shred of my pride left intact.

"They won't start without me," Fang replied calmly, his already strong hold tightening around my body. I rolled my eyes, finally giving up and leaning back in his arms.

It felt almost like we weren't even mad at each other anymore. It was… nice.

"Whatever floats your boat," I murmured, watching white flash across my vision as my ankle jostled under his elbow. It was quickly followed by another burst of concentrated pain from the injury, and I winced slightly. Dammit. It was probably sprained again, for somewhere around the third or fourth time. I was losing track.

Fang carried me directly to the team bench, where he sat me down extremely carefully next to Ella. He cocked his head briefly, dark eyes locked with mine. I nodded in reply to his silent question, and Fang sent me one last lingering glance before jogging back onto the field. I could see the other players dispersing into position once more as our coach hurried back off the field to let the play resume. Anne had to change the lineup again, bringing Danny into sweeper and sending Ford onto the field to cover Danny's old position at stopper.

"Are you all right, Max?" Anne asked worriedly, watching as I grasped my right ankle.

"Probably," was my optimistic response. "I'll be okay."

Nudge and Ella peered at me bleakly, both nursing their own assorted braces. "Welcome to the cripple crew," Nudge said sardonically, gesturing at her broken wrist. Ella waved her own brace in the air, as if to remind us exactly why she was sitting on the bench.

"Yay," I replied, just as deadpan as her. Nudge and Ella nodded, then began rummaging around in Anne's bag for an ice pack to put on my ankle.

"Who was right about you being careful with Barbie?" Ella asked haughtily, handing me one of those instant cold packs.

"You," I admitted freely, focusing on trying to get my ice pack into a comfortable position on my ankle. "This isn't working," I announced finally, frustrated with my inability to use an ice pack.

Anne, Ella, and Nudge helped me pry off my right cleat, sock, and shinguard, and I turned my sweaty sock into a makeshift towel to set in between the ice pack and my rapidly swelling ankle. "This is definitely sprained," I groaned, inspecting the sizeable lump growing just over my foot. "Crap."

"You'll be fine," Ella dismissed. She looked a little distracted, and I knew that she was far too used to my injuries to be unduly worried over a simple sprain. I would probably be better in a few weeks.

"Are you okay, Ella?" Nudge inquired, raising an eyebrow at my sister. "You've been acting funny this whole time."

"Well…" Ella hesitated, her gaze shifting between Anne, who was pacing the sideline distractedly, and us. She lowered her voice, obviously not wanting our coach to hear us discussing our 'highschool drama'. "I did want to ask you guys… do you know what's up with Iggy? He won't talk to me at all, not since that thing yesterday at lunch where he stormed off." Ella looked troubled.

I cocked my head to the side, thinking about it. "Well, he wasn't exactly a bundle of sunshine today," I replied thoughtfully. "We didn't talk at all during history. But he didn't go see Richie to talk about anything…" I mused.

"Who is this Richie guy you and Iggy keep talking about?" Nudge demanded, looking thoroughly perplexed.

"He's the school guidance counselor," I explained. Iggy had told me before he wasn't trying to keep his visits to Richie a secret, so I could only hope he wouldn't get mad about Ella and Nudge finding out from me.

A familiar dawn of recognition broke out on Ella's face, and she nodded as she started to understand. "I went to see him once because I was fighting with this other girl about Justin Bieber and the teacher was getting annoyed," she admitted cheerfully. "But I didn't know we could call him Richie instead of Mr. Reynolds."

"We're not really supposed to call him Richie, Ells," I informed her, grinning. "This is Iggy we're talking about. You think he would talk respectfully to a therapist?"

She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. "Good point there," she agreed. Ella paused, the grin falling from her lips as a new cloud of worry overtook her. "Oh no, do you think I did something that made him hate me somehow?" she cried out, her eyes full of horror.

"No, no! I don't think that at all! It's fine!" I tried to assure her, but it was too late. Ella was probably already convinced that Iggy would never speak to her again. That was just the way my dear sister worked— dramatically.

"What reason could he have to hate you?" Nudge asked gently. Ella threw herself at Nudge's shoulder, utterly mindless of Nudge's injured wrist or her own.

"Nudge, Iggy hates me," Ella wailed.

Nudge looked at me in alarm. I shrugged in response, not really knowing what to say. Ella was always a bit theatrical about boys, but the situation with Iggy had brought her down to a whole new level.

Yikes.

"It's fine," I repeated, attempting to sound somewhat soothing.

Apparently, I sounded nowhere near soothing, if Ella's obvious growing distress was any sign. "Oh no, does he think I'm just a kid and doesn't want to date me?" she gasped. "Oh God, that would suck!"

"I'm sure that's not it—" Nudge tried to say, but Ella cut her off again, a stricken look crossing her face.

"Iggy hates me," she moaned, digging her eyes into the palm of her good hand. "My life is over. Why don't we just move back to Nevada?"

"Because then Fang would probably die of heartbreak at Max leaving," Nudge suggested slyly.

I scowled. "Oh, give me a break," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

I had to admit though, Nudge's comment served a good purpose in distracting Ella. My sister instantly brightened at the prospect of teasing me about a boy. "Good point there, Nudge," she agreed. "We can't have Fangles wasting away here in Cali. Who would we get to carry Max off the field then?"

"Shut up," I muttered darkly. "He forced me to let him carry me."

"You looked pretty comfortable in his arms," Nudge snickered. I whacked her with the hand not holding my ice pack in place, and she squealed in protest. "Don't use violence just 'cause you can't deny the truth, young grasshopper!" she chided.

"I do not like being picked up by anyone," I declared pointedly.

But after the game ended (with another winning score of 1-0, to Gazzy's cackling delight), I didn't exactly object to Fang scooping me up again and carrying me off the field. He was warm from the exercise, and his heartbeat against my torso was strangely soothing. "I'm sorry for being a bitch about the whole don't-wanna-talk-about-it thing," I whispered, clinging into his shoulder as I tried to ignore the pain in my ankle.

Fang shook his head slowly, looking straight ahead as we headed towards the parking lot. "It's fine," he assured me. "I was being pushy."

"And I was being stubborn," I replied. "I… I guess you deserve to know about it, if you still want," I added reluctantly. I wasn't thrilled about sharing some of the details of my past with Fang, but I felt like now I had to give him the option to know. It wouldn't be fair to keep him in the dark, no matter how badly I wanted to.

Fang didn't have to ask me to clarify what 'it' was. A smile crept onto his face, lighting up his dark eyes in a way that made me forget about my sprained ankle. "Thank you," he said simply.

"So… we aren't fighting anymore?" I asked hopefully.

Fang stopped in his tracks, actually laughing out loud for a moment. I didn't have time to enjoy the sound though, because then his lips were pressed gently against mine, and I lost all train of thought.

It only lasted a few seconds though, since we were in the middle of the crowd leaving the soccer game, and kinda holding up traffic. There were a few whistles and a couple cheers, and Anne just shook her head and hurried past, muttering something that sounded distinctly like, "damn hormonal teenagers."

I smiled at Fang as he softly pulled away, my grip on his shoulder tightening slightly. "We aren't fighting anymore," he murmured, flashing me his own quiet smile. "Right?"

"Right," I agreed. "Let's not have that happen again."

"And you're going to tell me about that whole deal that you freaked out about yesterday? About you running away from things?" he prompted.

I swallowed down the flat out refusal I so desperately wanted to give him. "Fine," I acquiesced reluctantly. "But you owe me big time Cherry Garcia."

Fang looked at me seriously, and I was suddenly very aware of everywhere we touched: his hands supporting my legs and ribs, my hip against his chest, my arm around his shoulder, and his heartbeat thrumming against my side. "Anything for you, Max," he murmured.

I buried my face in his shoulder, not minding at all that it was extremely hard and bony and didn't provide a very good hiding spot. It was perfectly capable of hiding the tears welling up in my eyes, and that was all I needed. Fang didn't say anything else as we headed towards my car and my worried mother, but I felt his hand squeeze my side gently, and knew he understood.

I really do love Fang.

**Someone's POV**

"So the operative injured the subject?" The boss did not sound happy in the least, and Max swallowed uncomfortably beside me.

"Yes, the subject sprained her ankle," I confirmed. "She will be fine within the next week though, sir. I can assure you of that."

"She better," the boss growled. "We have a schedule to stick to, and Valencia and her friends are beginning to irritate me greatly as it is."

"Yes sir," I replied. Max stood silently next to me, and I had to elbow him to get him to cough up a muttered, "yes sir."

"The operative was only supposed to gauge her speed, agility, and power during the game," the boss continued irritably. "Not sprain her damn ankle."

"It was an unforseen problem that the subject would go to such lengths to prevent the operative from shooting on her goal," I replied, trying to sound as formal as I could. "I will personally see to it that she heals quickly, sir."

"It is well within your best interest to do so, Doctor," the boss retorted snidely. "See to it."

I knew a dismissal when it was given. Tapping Max's arm, I tried to discreetly pass on the message and get him to exit with me. Max, however, kept firmly in place. "Sir, when will we be setting the plan in action?" he asked boldly.

"Soon," was the boss' short, ominous answer. "And Doctor? Make sure that the other subjects aren't being neglected while I focus on Maximum."

I swallow as I think, with a sudden pang of regret, of 'the other subjects'. I had too much of an emotional attachment to this particular experiment, but there was no way I could let the boss know that and still survive. I would just have to weather through it.

"Yes sir, I will."

**CRAP CRAP CRAP: I just realized that this chapter is over 9,000 words. I now have an official excuse for why the hell it took me like four weeks to update. YES! XD**

**And I'd like to celebrate for a moment my life goal of using the word 'aglet' in a legit context. -epic self high fiving-**

**BTW- hey, I just wanted to say that I wrote this story that I'm thinking of posting on FictionPress... would any of you consider reading it if I did? =D**

**Please don't kill me? I promise I (kinda sorta pretty much) know where I'm going with this!**

**~TMI~**


	37. Crutches

**No one cares what I have to say. Just read.**

"You have to use your crutches, Max."

"Screw the damn crutches. I can walk perfectly well!" I snapped back at Fang. "You saw me earlier!"

"Really? Lemme see now then," he challenged. Fang leaned back against the wall of the small room, watching me skeptically as I hopped awkwardly down from the paper covered doctor's table.

"Fine," I muttered, setting my feet carefully on the cool tile flooring. I took one confident step with my bare, uninjured left foot, and then a small, hesitant step with my heavily wrapped right foot.

White oblivion blossomed across my vision, and I could feel myself buckle and hit the floor, my knees jarring with pain on impact. "Hell," I hissed, struggling to move my right foot so my ankle would stop screaming at me. "What is wrong with me? None of my other sprains hurt half as bad as this! I could walk earlier! Why can't I now?" I felt weak, that this affected me so much.

And I hated feeling weak.

Fang had suddenly materialized at my side, and a strong arm snaked its way around my torso as he helped me stand up. "Dad said it's because of the medicines," he replied, helping me over to the paper covered table and lifting me up to perch on the edge. Yet again, that strangely good feeling of smallness in his grasp overwhelmed me, and a little smile stole over my face when Fang kept his arm cradled around my waist as he stood beside the table.

"I never had to use crutches for a sprain before," I continued to whine, well aware of my unattractive poutiness and not caring in the least. I did not relish the idea of crutches, and I wanted to make my feelings on the matter very clear.

"Well, now you do," Fang retorted, rolling his eyes at me.

"You said it's because of the stupid shots they gave me?" I confirmed.

"That's what Dad said," Fang repeated. "They're really strong so you can heal faster, but apparently they're going to make you feel a lot weaker for a bit. Hence, he wants you on crutches."

I clearly remembered James Rianild explaining in some fancy medical language why I needed the shots, while I nodded along and pretended to understand. I also clearly recalled him standing and watching as the nurse prepped the needle and injected it not once, but three times into my veins. I had always hated needles, hated the feeling of alien fluid bursting into my skin, hated the very idea of something unnatural invading my body. This round of shots was even more awful than most though, because with each injection, I felt a distinct ripple of an odd, fizzy coldness rock through my body. Those were some strong drugs all right, and they left me feeling ridiculously weak and limp, no more useful than the rag doll Total had taken to carrying around in his mouth. At this point, it was so bad that I seriously doubted my ability to even use my upper body strength for crutches.

"I still don't want crutches," I mumbled again, sticking my chin out defiantly.

Fang rolled his eyes. "Of course you don't," he replied dramatically, "Crutches are for mere mortals, not Maximum Ride."

"Exactly!" I exclaimed. "Thank you for understanding, Fang! I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

Fang was saved from answering by the entrance of his father. "Max," James greeted me, ignoring the presence of his son for a moment. "Have you recovered from your shots yet? I already warned you they might cause some dizziness or nausea— is anything wrong?"

"I feel perfectly fine," I replied, mentally sighing in relief that I wasn't throwing up. "Just a bit weak."

James beamed, tapping a few keys on the laptop he was juggling on one arm. "That's great," he informed me happily. "I'm very pleased that you responded so well to the injections."

"Uh, thanks?" I said hesitantly, wondering just how I was supposed to reply to that. "So how long am I on crutches?"

James waved his free hand dismissively, not looking up from the screen of his laptop. "Only about a week or so, probably less since it's just a sprain," he estimated.

Relief flooded through me, and I felt a smile wash out onto my face. "Good," I sighed. "Or I might go homicidal on the poor crutches. They're so young and promising, it would be a shame to murder them now."

My strange rambling was ignored by James, who was busy tapping something into his keyboard again. It was probably a good thing that he didn't listen to me, considering that he was the doc and had full power and authority to ship me off to a crazy home. Fang, however, gave me a strange look and tightened his grip around my waist. I grinned at him in reply, and he just shook his head in mock despair.

"I'm going to send you home now, but you're going to have to take some medicine for this," James concluded, snapping his laptop shut with a decisive click. "I'll have the nurse give you the prescriptions."

"Medicine?" I asked skeptically. I looked down at my bandaged foot. "I don't understand why I have to use crutches instead of a boot like I did the last two times, and I don't get why I have to take medicine if all I have is a sprained ankle."

"Just do as the doctor says, Max," James chided. "Don't you want to get better quickly?"

"Well, yeah," I admitted. "But why do I have to take medicine?"

"So persistent," James sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "If you must now, it's a continuation of those shots I gave you. It's a new type of drug that strengthens your muscles as it heals your sprain."

"So it's a two in one kind of deal?" I clarified.

James nodded.

"Fine," I gave in. "I'll take the medicine, but I'm not happy about it."

"You don't have to be happy about it. You just have to be healthy," James replied wickedly. "See my nurse for the prescription, Max. Good bye."

And with a swirl of his long white coat, James was out the door.

I looked at Fang, who was watching me intently, a quiet question in his dark eyes. "Please?" he said aloud, his voice soft and persuasive. I scowled. "It's for your own good," he added.

"Whatever," I muttered defiantly. Fang gave me a look, the kind that mothers give their children when they're about to do something incredibly stupid. "Fine!" I snapped at last, finally relenting and letting him help me off the doctor's table. Fang smiled as he gently set me on my good foot, then retrieved my crutches from their place resting evilly against the wall.

Okay, maybe not evilly exactly, but that's how it seemed to me. Just saying.

Mom was in the waiting room when Fang escorted me out on my crutches, frowning as she spoke softly with James' assistant nurse. "What do these medicines have in them?" Mom asked, her normally warm brown eyes cool and calculating. I was surprised at the frosty civility of her voice, wondering what had upset her so much.

The nurse looked vaguely flustered. "Ms. Martinez, Maximum's medicines are completely safe," she tried to assure Mom. "There's no need to worry about her health."

"I'm not worried about their safety, I'm worried about their content," Mom replied witheringly. "As I've said four times before now." She paused for breath, then drew herself up slightly as she looked imperiously at the nurse. "And I am Dr. Martinez, thank you very much."

Wow. My mom is really kinda badass. I never knew that before…

Well, it made sense. I must have gotten it from somewhere.

"We've already cross-referenced the medicines with Maximum's medical record, and seeing as she has no allergies, there is no need for alarm that these will react badly on her—" the nurse tried to soothe my mother.

"Will you answer my damn question?" Mom interrupted heatedly, eyes blazing and fists clenched. I stopped, shocked at her intensity. I rarely saw her this angry, and never over a small matter like medicine. This anger was reserved for breaking windows (me) or collecting a sixty dollar fine on a library card and not telling her about it (Ella).

"Valencia, what can I do for you?" James cut in smoothly, appearing behind the frustrated nurse at the front desk. "Is there a problem regarding Max's prescription?"

"Yes, there is," Mom replied shortly. "I want to see the full contents list of the medicines given to her."

James raised his eyebrow. "All right," he agreed pleasantly. "That can be arranged rather easily. Hildey, why didn't you show Dr. Martinez the ingredients at first?"

The nurse sputtered for a moment, obviously vastly confused for whatever reason. "My apologies, Dr. Rianild," she said finally. "I'll go find the list of ingredients then."

"Thank you Hildey!" James called after the nurse as she beat her retreat around a corner. "Sorry Valencia, Hildey is relatively new here and has trouble with protocol sometimes."

"Of course," Mom replied smoothly, unclenching her fists and exhaling slowly. "I'm sorry for getting so worked up. Max's health is very important to me."

"Mom," I groaned, crutching my way up to her with a slightly smiling Fang in tow. "Give it a rest."

Mom smiled at me, but didn't comment further. "I'll take care of this, Max," she told me. "You and Fang can go now, I'll see you later."

"Kay," I replied, feeling my stomach clench a little. Fang was still waiting for his explanation of my odd behavior earlier in the week, and this provided an ideal time to tell him.

Dammit.

"Bye, Dr. M," Fang said politely, flashing my mom a quiet smile as he followed me out the door.

"Bye," Mom murmured distractedly, her attention caught by Hildey coming back with a sheet of paper in hand.

Fang held the waiting room door open for me while I awkwardly crutched through. As we made our way down the hall, I watched Fang wordlessly change his steps to match the pace of my crutches, trying to think of how to start off my story.

After Fang had passed me off to my mom post ankle spraining yesterday, we had gone straight home. I staggered awkwardly to the door with Ella lending her non-injured arm to supporting my every other step, and fell onto the couch. Mom got me a new ice pack, Ella located a few pillows and blankets for me, and after a wholesome meal of bagel bites and doritos, I crashed.

Needless to say, Fang and I didn't have a heart-to-heart talk that night.

Then Friday morning rolled around, and Mom had decided that I would not be going to school. She seemed strangely jumpy all day, and ordered me not to move from the couch for any reason other than bathroom usage. It was weird, and I was starting to wonder if my mother had gone slightly insane when Anne and Christie dropped by together to check on me.

"As soon as I let you girls on my team, you both go and injure yourselves!" Christie scolded teasingly, her eyes twinkling.

"It's not really our faul-" I started to protest. Then I stopped, mentally rewinding. "Wait, we made the team?" I asked.

Christie nodded, smiling and pulling a couple of folders out from behind her back. "I wanted to check on your ankle, and I needed your Mom to fill out these forms for you and Ella," she explained. Christie handed the folders to my mom, throwing her a salute and saying, "Here you go, Coach."

Mom actually smirked, her previous worry seeming to melt away in the presence of my two coaches. "You were always the suck-up, Christie," Mom teased, accepting the folder.

"Well, Anne was the loudmouthed diva forward," Christie protested.

"Was not," Anne retorted, tossing her ponytail dramatically. "You were just jealous of my skills, you lowly defender."

I stared at the three of them, wondering what the hell was going on. "Uh, excuse me, but what are you guys talking about?" I asked slowly, struggling to sit up properly on the couch. With every movement my ankle pulsed with pain, just as I had come to expect a sprain to do in my experience with them. It was distracting me, and I couldn't exactly keep track of what was happening very well.

"Christie and I played on your mother's soccer team in college," Anne explained, grinning down at me.

"You did?" I asked stupidly.

"Yep," Christie confirmed. "She was a top notch goalie before she screwed up her knees—"

"Watch what you say about me," Mom warned, putting on a look of fake affront. "I'm right here."

"And then she coached the college team where Anne and I played for a few years before she ran off to vet school and started moving to every state in the country," Christie continued, completely ignoring Mom's interruption. "We lost touch for awhile because Anne and I could never keep track of where she had gone."

"So that's why you two are so similar with your coaching…" I mumbled, closing my eyes as I tried to process this. "Did my mom teach you how to yell that loudly?"

"She's a goalie, sweetheart. Yelling loudly is part of the job description," Anne informed me.

I rolled my eyes. "Sure it is," I mumbled, falling back against the pillow. "I'm so confused… why doesn't anything make sense anymore?"

"Max, go to sleep," Mom advised, rolling her eyes at my whininess. "We'll go talk in the kitchen." Mom herded her former players away from the couch, leaving me alone with only the ticking of the clock to keep me company.

Anne and Christie used to play on Mom's soccer team. Wow.

When I woke up later that day, I heard Mom's, Ella's, and Fang's voices floating out of the kitchen. I sat up, pushing away the blanket that Mom must have draped over me while I slept. I gingerly stepped off the couch with my good foot, praying that I would be able to walk the ten yards to the kitchen doorway without my stupid ankle killing me.

It was surprisingly easy to get to my destination, actually. My ankle felt swollen and seemed as if someone had stuffed it full of painful cottonballs, but I could walk perfectly well. I smiled to myself as I limped into the kitchen, mentally cheering the fact that I didn't need anyone to carry me anymore.

"Max! You're awake," Mom greeted me, smiling as she gestured for me to sit down. I lowered myself carefully into a seat at the kitchen table and glanced up at Ella and Fang, who were leaning against the counter.

"Yeah, you guys talk loudly," I remarked. "So what's up?"

Fang looked over at me, dark eyes searching my face and very effectively waking me up with their intensity. "How's your ankle?" he asked quietly.

"Sprained," I replied flippantly, bending to inspect the swollen lump adorning the side of my ankle bone. It bulged a good inch off of my leg, which was pretty impressive if you ask me. "But I can walk now."

Fang gave me a look. "So does that make you think you're okay?" he asked skeptically.

"Umm, yeah?" I replied slowly, wondering why he sounded so resigned. "Why?"

Ella, Fang, and my mother all exchanged looks. It was the kind of exasperated look that you give your friends when someone was acting like a toddler, and it seemed that they were marking me as the toddler in this case. "Max," Ella began delicately, "We think that you should let the doctor take a look at it."

Alarm bells started ringing in my head. "Why do I feel like I'm about to be cornered?" I asked suspiciously.

"Probably because you are," Fang replied calmly. "Max, my dad already has an appointment set up with you. I told him you sprained your ankle, and he just wants to help you. He said something about a new medicine that helps with quick healing."

Fang knew that last part would catch my attention. I was about to start arguing that I should most certainly not see a doctor and simply let it heal on its own, but speedy healing was a definite advantage that he knew I wouldn't be able to dismiss.

Suddenly though, Mom started looking worried. "A regenerative medicine?" she asked warily. "Where did this come from?"

Fang shrugged, turning to look at my mother. "Dad said it's some new advancement in medical science or something. I couldn't follow all the fancy wording," he admitted. "But from what I can tell it's supposed to cut healing time down."

Mom frowned. "Well, that sounds… interesting," she remarked, sounding strangely removed.

"If my dad is suggesting it then I'm sure it's safe," Fang offered, obviously trying to reassure her.

"And I think that might be the only way we can drag Max to the doctor's," Ella observed.

I snorted, but made no comment.

She was right, just FYI.

And that's what brought me to the doctor's office, which brought me to getting horribly painful shots, which brought me to suddenly losing all ability to walk properly _again_, which brought me to using the damn crutches, which I used to bring myself to the place I am right now (which, in case anyone's forgotten, is moving along the corridor of the doctor's office leading outside with my dearest boyfriend, who is waiting somewhat impatiently for me to divulge my deep dark past).

Oh, drat.

Okay, so maybe my past wasn't horrifically deep and dark, but it was rather scarring to my young mind. A girl can have her sore spots, all right? And what I did, what happened to us, the repercussions, they still affected me today. They weren't exactly things normal fifth grade girls would— or even could— do.

I snuck a sideways glance at Fang, wondering if he noticed my apprehension rising as we got closer to the time where I would confess. His face was impassive, looking straight ahead, but when he noticed me glancing over he offered me a small smile.

Good. He wasn't mad.

Yet.

"Crutches giving you trouble?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" I said, confused by his question. Why would he think that?

"You're scowling," Fang informed me, smirking a little. He obviously found what he thought was my irritation with crutches highly amusing.

I wasn't scowling because of the crutches, but I didn't want to bring up the real reason for my apparent frowniness (I hadn't even realized I was doing that. Whoops. It seems that I should work on my facial awareness). "Yeah, they're making my back kinda sore," I invented, feeling somewhat guilty at the lie.

Fang frowned slightly, and my guilt grew a little at his concern. "Maybe you shouldn't use crutches," he said slowly, stopping and turning as if to go back to his dad's office. "Maybe they have something else you could use instead. There's no point in hurting your back with crutches."

Oh crap. Now I felt even more guilty.

"Fang, it's okay," I assured him quickly. Fang didn't appear to notice my protest though, continuing to walk away. Frustrated by my slowness, I let my crutches clatter to the floor, picking up my bad foot and hopping forward on the good one to stop him from marching back into the doctor's office to demand a wheelchair for me or something. "I'm fine," I insisted. My hand closed on his shoulder, tugging him to a halt.

Fang stopped in his tracks, turning slightly to face me. His hand slid up to rest on the one I had clamped to his shoulder. His eyes searched my face as he slowly pulled my fingers off of his shoulder. I couldn't focus on anything but him, his serious face and his warm hand surrounding mine, gently guiding my arm around his neck instead. I hopped awkwardly forward as he pulled me towards him, trying to stay casual even as he dropped his hand to my back and pressed me up against his side. His other hand snaked down somehow to my waist, tugging me to face him, and I couldn't help but let my free arm join the other one around his neck. My bad ankle was completely forgotten.

He didn't look away from my eyes the whole time.

"You said your back hurt," Fang observed, breaking the silence. The hand on my back spread out gently, and I could feel the warmth of his fingers through my shirt. "Using crutches isn't going to help that."

I resisted the urge to let my hands tangle in his hair. My fingers were just brushing the soft ends on his neck, and it was distracting me. I struggled to string a proper protesting sentence together. "Fang, I'm fine," I whispered, unwilling to speak louder and disrupt the stillness between us. "My back is fine. My ankle is the one that is being an asshole, remember?"

He frowned again. "You sure?" Fang asked dubiously. "You looked pretty unhappy just now."

"I'm not thrilled with the idea of using crutches, but I'll use them if it makes my ankle heal," I replied, avoiding the fact that the thing I was unhappy about wasn't actually the crutches in the first place. "Come on, let's just go. I hate doctor's offices, even if they belong to your dad." I nodded my head down the hallway toward the glass doors leading outside.

Fang smirked down at me, the concern leaving his eyes and being replaced by something more mischievous. "Wait, you actually think I'm going to let you get out of this yet?" he asked, pretending to be incredulous.

"Out of what?" I retorted, trying not to breathe too shallowly as the hand on my waist poked a few fingers under the hem of my shirt.

Fang's smirk grew, and he pulled me a little closer, tilting his head down until I could feel his breath on my mouth. "Out of this," he murmured, and pressed his lips to mine.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love it when Fang kisses me? It seems like it gets better every time. I lifted myself up higher on my good foot, letting the injured right dangle in the air behind me. My fingers instantly buried themselves in the tufts of hair covering Fang's neck that had been taunting me so much before. I closed my eyes and let my mouth move along with his, savoring his taste.

"Oh, please, not in public," a voice sneered, startling me into breaking away from the kiss. Fang didn't let go of me though, holding on possessively to my waist. I let my hands drop out of his hair on onto his shoulders, turning to look at the intruder.

Well, not exactly intruder. We were standing in a public hallway, after all. But this sneery voice sounded extremely familiar. Too familiar.

"Hello Max," Fang said coolly, pulling me tighter against him. I said nothing, only glaring at the redheaded boy who stood stiffly across from us. He was the reason for the lovely bruise blooming across my face, after all. I hadn't exactly forgiven him for that.

"Fang," Max II bit out, cold blue eyes glowering back at us. "Max. Do you mind saving the PDA for somewhere else?"

"We didn't expect your dashing company," I informed him, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "I'll apologize if you apologize," I offered, gesturing to my black eye.

Max II snorted, crossing his arms arrogantly across his chest. "Not a chance," he snarled. "You deserved that."

I could feel Fang tense up, could practically sense the anger prompted by Max II's remark rushing through him. Before he could do anything though, I quickly stepped in. "Whatever. I think it's my color anyway," I replied airily, taking one hand off of Fang's neck to finger my purple bruise. "Brings out my eyes beautifully," I added.

Fang snorted slightly, but seemed to relax. Good.

"What are you doing here anyway, Maxi?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Going for a check up?" I jerked my head down the hallway to James Rianild's office.

Max II just continued to sneer, stepping closer to Fang and I. "Not that it's any of your business, Maxi, but yes, I am," he retorted.

"Then go ahead. I wouldn't want to make you late for your appointment," I replied sweetly, staring him down. "Run along now."

Max II just scoffed at me, brushing past Fang and I without another word and marching angrily down the hallway. He yanked open the door and stomped inside, not giving another glance backwards.

"He's just jealous 'cause I got the girl," Fang remarked, pulling me closer yet again.

"Get off me," I replied eloquently, stepping backward out of his arms.

That was when I remembered my newly medicated, extremely pain-sensitive, sprained ankle.

Oh yeah.

I'm ashamed to admit that I let out a revoltingly high-pitched shriek as I toppled backwards, my legs folding under me. The hallway wasn't exactly the widest one around, so I managed to hit the wall with my upper back on the way down and slow my fall. Fang was at my side almost as soon as my butt hit the ground, dark eyes wide with alarm. He looked ready to throw me over his shoulder and cart me back to his dad's office if need be. I wouldn't really put it past him, considering the almost overkill concern he has for my various injuries. "Max! Are you okay?" Fang asked urgently, gripping my shoulder worriedly.

I gritted my teeth, blinking away the pain that was flooding my ankle. "I'm fine, I just forgot about the sprain and stepped wrong," I assured him. "Can you grab the stupid things for me?"

Fang rolled his eyes, but didn't comment as he got up and retrieved my crutches from the untidy pile I had dropped them in before.

I trained him well.

As we continued on down the hallway, I couldn't help but notice that now Fang was the frowny one. "What's wrong with you?" I asked as we stopped in front of the elevators. We were only on the second floor, but we didn't have to talk to agree that I shouldn't be testing out my new crutches on stairs. We both knew how extremely graceful I could be.

Fang glanced over at me. "If Max II had a checkup, why didn't he have a parent with him?" he pointed out. "He couldn't just walk in by himself. He's only fifteen."

The metal doors slid open, and Fang held them that way until I had crutched my way inside. "Maybe his mom is parking or something," I suggested. "Why would he lie about a checkup?"

"I don't know," Fang replied, shrugging. "Just seems weird."

"I can't think of a single reason for Max II to go to the doctor's office voluntarily for some evil purpose," I declared. I leaned against the side of the elevator, studying Fang's clearly unconvinced face. "Just 'cause he's a jerk doesn't mean he doesn't have doctor's appointments," I reminded him. "And your dad is a doctor."

"Yeah," Fang hedged, obviously still not persuaded. I sighed, giving up the argument. The stupid medicine was making me sleepy, and I didn't have the energy to try to convince Fang that Max II going to the doctor was perfectly normal and socially acceptable.

When we finally stepped out of the building, we both headed to the bus stop without question, stepped on, and knew that we were going to the park.

At first Fang wanted to stay on the wide cement paths of the outer park, arguing that it would be easier on my crutches. But I firmly refused, ignoring his protests as I made my way over to the gravel and dirt trails that led deeper into the woods of the park.

"If you slip and die it's your fault," Fang warned me, following close behind as I dug my crutches into the uneven ground.

"I'll take full responsibility," I promised, waving away his worry. "I won't even make you buy flowers for my funeral."

"How comforting," he muttered.

I snorted in reply, continuing on in silence for a moment. The trees were slowly cutting us off from the buzz of playground chatter, and I breathed in the earthy, quiet air. It was so peaceful, the only sounds unharmonious with the scene Fang's footsteps and my crutches grinding against the path.

"So are you gonna tell me?"

I halted at the question, an act that allowed Fang to slip in next to me instead of behind as the path widened out. I could feel his gaze asking me to tell him, trust him. Neither of us moved.

Finally, I let out a short, forced laugh. "I said I was going to, didn't I?" I asked. "I will."

"Okay," Fang said simply, turning forward and starting to walk again. I swung my crutches forward and hurried to set my pace even with his large, quick strides.

"Hey, lighten up on the speed," I protested, feeling my under arms already start to ache from where they were pressing on the crutches. "Stupid meds are making me weak. I won't be able to spill if I'm out of breath, you know," I added.

"Sorry," Fang replied, obligingly slowing down. He said nothing else though, and I knew he was waiting for me to start.

I took a deep breath, wondering where I should begin. "Well, my family tends to move around a lot," I finally decided, fixing my eyes on the bend in the path a few steps ahead. "Big moves, from state to state. And in fifth grade, we lived in Florida. I had a few friends there that I was really close t— HOLY SHIT!"

And let me tell you, the swearing didn't stop there.

I skidded to a halt, frozen by the scene in front of me. Fang stood beside me, equally as frozen, but less loudly explicit than me. Loudly explicit is more my style anyway. Fang is more of a silent shock type.

But what we were looking at right now made me wish we hadn't turned the stupid corner. Why did we have to pick the same trail that stupid Dylan chose to make out with Nudge on?

I guess this was karma revenge for when she stumbled in on me and Fang on Hidden Path.

But let me focus on the real problem here. DYLAN. KISSING. NUDGE. Not exactly very chastely either. They were pretty wrapped up in their little activity, Dylan pressing her against a tree on the side of a trail and Nudge's hands knotted in his hair. Mouths fitted very closely together. Dylan's hands wandering at her waist, toying with the hem of her shirt. But my loud, continuous stream of expletives seemed to shake them from their little world.

Nudge pulled away from Dylan, her eyes snapping wide open as she stared helplessly at Fang and I. A dark blush sprang up almost instantly across her cheeks. "Max! Fang!" she coughed awkwardly, pulling her hands away from Dylan and sliding them back to her sides. She pushed him off of get, and Dylan stepped obediently away, smiling unrepentantly at Fang and I.

I was pretty sure that image was burned into my mind forever.

"Oh geez," I groaned, wishing I could pull my hands off my crutches and scratch away my retinas. "Why me? Why me?"

"It seems to be national Walk in on People Kissing day," Fang mused quietly. "Why wasn't I informed?"

I ignored what he probably viewed as hilarious wit, choosing instead to stare at Nudge until she fidgeted uncomfortably. "What?" she finally snapped, unable to deal with my silent reproach. "It's a public park. I'm allowed to kiss my boyfriend. You of all people should agree with that, Max," Nudge added pointedly, giving a very clear head jerk towards Fang.

I couldn't help but continue to stare at her, wondering how Dylan even ended up asking her out so quickly after they even met. And now they were making out in public parks? I was a little concerned for my friend, still convinced that Dylan wasn't the best guy for her to be dating.

I mean, come on! Do the words _'Danny Armstrong'_ mean anything anymore?

"You better not hurt her," Fang remarked quietly, his eyes trained on Dylan.

"Faaang," Nudge whined, sounding very much like an embarrassed little sister.

"I don't plan on it," Dylan replied calmly, steadily looking back at Fang. Then his gaze flickered over to me, and I had to force myself not to scowl for Nudge's sake. "I'm sorry you feel scarred, Max," he continued, looking vaguely amused at my disgust.

"You better be," I muttered, digging the end of my crutch into the dirt. I entertained myself by imagining it was Max II's head. Or maybe Thirteen.

"So… were you guys going somewhere?" Nudge asked after a moment. I didn't miss the unspoken request in her words: "I love you guys and all, but will you please get lost and leave us alone?"

"Yeah, actually," I agreed, not wanting to risk anymore PDA. "C'mon Fang, let's go. We'll see you guys later."

"Bye Max," Dylan offered, smiling at me. "Later Fang."

"Good bye," Nudge added, smiling thankfully at me for getting her hint. I nodded, crutching my way past the two of them and trying to put as much space between us as possible.

We stopped a little later, at a little secluded place on the trail equipped with a green bench. Fang looked at me questioningly, and I fell backwards onto the bench in response, dropping my crutches carelessly on either side. "That was… eventful," I remarked, wincing as the mental image of Nudge and Dylan tangled together resurfaced in my mind.

"Very much so," Fang agreed, not looking very pleased either. "So… Florida?"

I should've known he wouldn't give up so easily. Not even stumbling in on a making out couple could distract Fang from what he wanted to know. I sighed, fixing my eyes on a small yellow flower at the side of the path. "Right," I said softly. "Florida."

And I let myself get washed over with memories of that time, memories that had been forced away for so long.

"I had a friend named Mike," I started out. "He wasn't the most normal of kids."

And everything else, what I thought would be so hard to voice in open air, came gushing out.

**DEDICATED TO: villite246, for not letting me get away too easy with not updating, and who was a great source of inspiration as I attempted to write this horrid chapter. (: you da bomb!**

**The main problem with this is I honestly don't know what's going to happen yet. (: You're all like 'wow I can't wait to see what happens next!' and I'm here thinking 'yeah me too!' =P**

**SOMEBODY GOT IT RIGHT! (: I'm not saying who, but somebody got who the Someone's POV was! Congratulations, person who doesn't know I mean them! (:**

**Hey, I've submitted over 500 reviews on this account. Would you like to return the love to me? (: I promise I will try so hard not to slack this time... /: I'm a despicable human being, I know. I REPENT!**

**~TMI~**


	38. Telling Her Story

**This took forever to figure out what was going to happen, but hopefully it's satisfactory. Thank my new laptop for getting this up! =D**

Mike Baxter. That was his name.

He looked like a classic troublemaker at first glance. He was a little bigger than most of the fifth graders, with gray eyes and unruly brown hair sprouting every which way on his head. Mike had this aura of bad attitude than cloaked his every move. The quieter kids, the ones more easily intimidated, avoided Mike like the plague. The other class clowns didn't try to tangle with him either, leaving him alone to stew in his seat by the corner. He always sat in the corner, in every single class. He caused trouble at every opportunity, and never seemed to care when he racked up detention after detention.

But me being my ornery self, I decided that since he was so moody and dangerous it was nothing less than my supreme moral duty to befriend him. Ella was always bemused by this, preferring to have the types of friends that would indulge in her passion for discussing clothes and celebrity gossip and cute boys. She left me alone in my endeavors to become Mike Baxter's first friend.

I started my mission off as soon as possible, aided by my friend Jack. It was lunchtime, and Mike was sitting by himself on a bench by the fence, slowly eating a sandwich.

"Whatcha doing?" I asked cheerfully, plopping down on the bench beside him.

Mike looked up, suspicious eyes switching between Jack and I. He said nothing, only continued to tear away at his sandwich.

"I'm Max, and this is Jack," I continued, determined to make Mike talk to me if it was the last thing I did. Jack smiled at Mike, but Mike barely spared him a glance.

"I know," was all he muttered. "Max Ride, Jack King. You're in my class."

"Right!" I agreed enthusiastically, my confidence boosted by his recognition. "So Jack and me have a friend named Omega who likes baseball, and-"

"He's obsessed with baseball," Jack interrupted emphatically.

I shot him a look. "Yeah, whatever, but anyway, we wanted to know if you wanted to play with us," I finished. "We have a sort of game we made up that involves a lot of hitting and catching and running and tackling."

"We call it Idiotball," Jack supplied helpfully. "Cause we look like crazies, running around playing it."

Mike just stared at us. "Why?" he asked eventually. He looked suspicious that we were even talking to him.

I couldn't really blame him. No one voluntarily had before.

"Because we want you to," Jack explained gently, smiling at Mike in his usual winning way. "I think you'll like it," he added encouragingly. Jack was a quiet kid, but a charmer all the same. He had won over half the girls in our grade with his genuine personality and that beautiful, beautiful smile. Some were practically ready to sign marriage agreements. Not even Mike could withstand the power of that lovely, powerful smile.

"Okay," he finally agreed, sounding slightly surprised at his own answer.

Jack and I whooped in celebration of our success, slapping a hasty high five. Mike only stared, obviously confused, as we grabbed him by either arm and dragged him towards the field where Omega and Darla were waiting.

"Finally!" Darla greeted us, smiling teasingly as she watched Jack and I drag Mike forward. "Meg and I thought you had ditched us."

Omega instantly scowled. "I told you not to call me that, _Darling_," he accused. "Meg is not my name."

"Darling isn't mine," Darla retorted.

"Close enough," Omega muttered, concentrating back on the baseball he was tossing up and down. I snorted, grinning as I watched his blue eyes unwaveringly track the ball's path.

"Let's get on with the Idiotball!" I declared, charging at Omega. I swiped the ball neatly from the air just as his hand was about to close on it, then darted away as fast as I could.

"Wait, aren't you gonna teach me how to play?" Mike demanded, sounding confused again.

"It's harder to figure out listening to us explain than it is to just play," Jack advised, clapping a friendly hand on Mike's shoulder. "Trust me."

"Jack, you're it!" Darla squealed, poking him sharply in the shoulder.

Jack pulled a face at her, and she giggled loudly as she scampered away. "Darlaaa," he whined. "We haven't even been playing for thirty seconds yet!"

"Stop complaining and do it!" I yelled as I raced by, Omega hot on my heels.

Jack scowled, but submitted to the humiliation of somersaulting thirty six times before staggering drunkenly off to try to catch Darla.

"What am I supposed to do?" Mike yelled, starting to sound frustrated. He stood alone in the midst of our chaotic game, obviously struggling to comprehend the rules— or, I should say, lack of rules.

Omega finally caught me by the elbow, yanking me backwards into his grasp as he tried to pry the ball from my fingers. Unfortunately (or fortunately, if you were talking to the girly girl side of me that was crushing on him and secretly squealing that he was holding me quite firmly against his chest) he managed to succeed, and within seconds he had thrown the ball to Mike. "Catch!" he yelled, somewhat unhelpfully.

Mike caught, then stood there looking a little at a loss as to what to do next.

"Run!" Omega screamed, struggling to hold me back as I fought to break free of his arms. Stupid baseball addict had crazy arm strength, even in fifth grade. "Run for your damn life, Baxter!"

I broke free, and barreled at Mike as fast as my feet could go. His eyes widened in alarm for a moment, but then a sly grin curled at his mouth as he turned tail and ran. I chased him past Darla, who was shrieking flirtatiously as she tried to evade Jack's uncoordinated attempts to tag her, and Omega, who had started trying to round all the bases while I wasn't looking. The sneak. That could've won him the game if I hadn't tagged him in time! As it was, he only managed to round two before I had tagged him, and was forced to run backwards after me as I resumed tracking down Mike.

Ah, the joys of Idiotball.

We spent many lunchtimes playing just like this. Slowly, Mike began to open up more to us. He seemed most comfortable around me or Jack, not preferring to talk alone with Omega or Darla. As the weeks passed by, I learned more and more about my new friend.

Mike Baxter was a troubled child. Orphaned at an early age, he had been tossed between relatives who didn't want him for years before finally being picked up by children's protective services and shoved into the hectic, ever changing life of a moody foster child. The reasons his own extended family didn't want to keep him were the same ones given by frustrated foster parents as they handed him back to CPS over and over. He brooded, he never smiled unless something bad had happened, he delighted in their anger and despair, he was an antisocial menace. The list of complaints ran on and on.

Mike determinedly kept up his signature scowl through it all.

Jack and I didn't care. I was just plain stubborn, and Jack was genuinely a good, friendly person. Together we managed to tear down quite a few of Mike's walls, and got closer to him than I think anyone ever had before. Of course, Mike wasn't used to being open with people, and he still enjoyed being difficult, but that was just part of who he was. The three of us became closer than ever. It was rare when we weren't hanging out after school, or picking each other for partners in a class project.

While Jack and I grew closer to Mike, Darla started to resent the moody boy. She didn't ever grow used to his attitude or behavior, only tolerated his company with weak little smiles. Now he was taking both her crush and her best friend from her, and she didn't like it.

And Darla was never one to just stay unhappy. She took action.

"Hey Max, do you want to go down to Baskin Robbins for ice cream?" Darla asked me, smiling as she adjusted her grip on her backpack strap. It was a few minutes after our last class, and we were both busily shoveling things from locker to backpack.

I grinned back at my best friend, nodding enthusiastically. "That sounds good," I agreed. "I could do with some ice cream. That math test was killer."

Darla giggled, her face lighting up as we both stood and started off down the hallway. "Oh please, that was probably a piece of cake for you, Math Queen," she teased. "I still don't understand how you can never remember your locker combination, but you manage to memorize all of those formulas."

"The formulas make sense," I objected. "It's my addition skills that need work."

This only prompted more giggles from her. "Oh yeah, like when Mrs. Gallander asked what forty seven plus thirteen was and you proudly answered with a firm 'fifty one'," Darla recalled.

I grimaced. "Don't remind me," I pleaded. "That was a trick question."

Darla snorted, looking at me skeptically. "How was that even remotely a trick ques-" she started to say.

I cut her off, my attention suddenly caught by Mike standing up at his locker, zipping his blue backpack shut with a small frown etched on his face. "Hey, it's Mike," I said to Darla, grinning again. "We should ask him if he wants to come with us for ice cream."

Suddenly, Darla's happy glow dimmed a little. She slowed down a little, looking over at where Mike stood slinging his backpack over one shoulder. "Oh, well Max, I was kinda hoping we could just go by oursel-"

"Mike!" I called out, grabbing his attention. "Wanna come with us to ice cream?"

Mike looked up at us, his gaze switching between me and Darla. "Sure," he replied. "Got nothing better to do."

"Oh gee, thanks," I snorted. "That makes me feel so good. Come on, we can go pick up Jack and Omega from their lockers on the way too." I started forward to fall into step with Mike, only to realize that Darla had stopped walking. "Darls?" I asked, confused at her sudden halt. "You coming?"

Darla looked at me, her blank expression abruptly morphing into another smile. "Yeah, of course. I was the one who suggested it, Max," she answered brightly. "Let's go find Meggy and Jack."

I laughed, linking my elbow through hers as we started off towards the boys' lockers, Mike walking close at my other side. "Don't let Omega hear you calling him that," I warned her teasingly. "Meggy sure won't like that."

"What did you call me?" a voice behind me demanded, sounding half amused and half indignant. I whirled around, my arm flying out of Darla's as I turned to find the source of the voice. It was Omega of course, standing just outside the door of his sixth period English class. He raised an eyebrow at all of us, but his eyes were locked on me. I could already feel myself getting flustered.

Great. This was just great. I had been reduced to a blushing idiot by Omega simply looking at me.

"Uh, umm, I said," I stuttered, my tongue suddenly deciding it would be a nice time to glue itself to the roof of my mouth. "I said…"

Darla apparently realized that I wasn't going to be answering Omega's perfectly simple and reasonable question anytime in the near future, because she quickly came to my rescue. "She said Meggy," Darla informed him cheekily. "Are you deaf as well as stupid? Hit with one too many baseballs to the head?"

"Shut up, Darling," he retorted immediately. "I was asking Max."

"Well I answered," Darla replied airily. "We're going for ice cream now. Come on." And without further ado, she pulled my arm back through hers and tugged me down the hallway towards Jack's locker. Mike and Omega took a few seconds to start following us, and Darla took advantage of this lead to hiss in my ear, "You are so explaining what all _that _was about later, missy."

I didn't have to ask what she meant by 'that'. It was pretty obvious she meant my airheaded, idiotic display of my inability to interact with Omega without losing my common sense. It was pathetic. I just sighed, and she squeezed my arm sympathetically.

Eventually, what had started out as Darla and I going for ice cream became Jack, Omega, Mike, Darla and I getting ice cream, going to the park, and walking up and down the streets for an hour talking about absolutely nothing like normal fifth graders before finally splitting off. Omega had baseball practice, Jack had a guitar lesson, and Mike had meandered off somewhere by himself, hands stuck in his pockets and looking like he didn't give a damn where he was off to next. Darla dragged me back to her house and sat me down in her room on the bed. I avoided her gaze as she plopped down next to me, staring me down as she waited patiently for me to begin. "Well?" she prompted. "What's up with Omega? Should I be reviewing bridesmaid dresses?"

I groaned, falling backwards onto her pillows. "Shut up, Darla," I pleaded. "It's nothing like that. I just have a tiny crush on him."

"A tiny crush?" Darla scoffed, raising her eyebrows at me knowingly. "Max, you couldn't even talk when he was just looking at you!"

"Okay, so maybe it's a big crush," I snapped. "Whatever. Nothing's gonna happen anyway, so it doesn't matter." I turned to stare into her mirrors adorning her closet door. Plain brown eyes, unruly hair, thin shoulders clad in a green t-shirt. There was nothing special here.

"Nothing's gonna happen?" Darla echoed in disbelief. "What are you talking about?" Darla crawled over on the bed and stared into the mirror next to me. "You're both athletes, you're already friends, you've got tons in common," she listed off.

"That's not the point," I interrupted. I wanted to stop her before she got too enthusiastic about the idea. Once Darla got going on something, it took a lot to convince her of a different opinion. And I happened to have a _very _different opinion on this matter. "I am not interested in telling Omega I like him," I informed her firmly.

Darla's jaw actually dropped, as if the very idea was ludicrous. "What? Why not?" she demanded. "He probably likes you too! And you'll never know if you don't ask!"

"I don't want to know," I retorted. "What's going to happen if we both happen to like each other anyway? We're in fifth grade. It's not like he would ask me out or something."

"Maybe he would," Darla protested. "You don't know that."

"And," I continued pointedly, ignoring her comment, "I don't want a boyfriend anyway. It's ridiculous to be dating someone at age 11. And it would be weird if I told him and he didn't like me anyway." I turned away from the mirror decisively, wanting to close the subject. "I'll get over it eventually. It's not a big deal," I concluded.

"Max, it's pretty obvious that you really like him," Darla insisted. "Why would you not even try to ask him if he feels the same?"

"Omega probably loves baseball more than anyone anyway," I replied flippantly, trying to brush off her question and ignore my stomach somersaulting at her blunt remark. "I am not going to tell him I like him anytime soon, and neither are you, right Darla?"

"But-" she tried to argue.

"Right, Darla?" I repeated, a little more forcefully this time. This was important to me. I didn't want my stupid crush ruining my friendship with Omega. And I most certainly didn't want him to ask me to be his girlfriend or anything. Neither of us were ready for a relationship. I mean, come on. It was less than two years ago that we were still only in single digit ages!

Darla sighed. "Right," she agreed reluctantly.

I smiled at her. "Thank you," I said softly. There was a moment of companionable silence, and then my mischievous side got the better of me. "While we're on the subject though, I would like to add that a certain someone I know who may or may not be sitting beside me right now has been showing some severe symptoms of crushing on a certain Jack King I know," I remarked innocently.

That set her off, just as I knew it would.

"Maaaaax!" she squealed, slapping my shoulder in retaliation. "I so do not!"

I just stared at her, waiting for her coy façade to crack. Darla could never keep a secret for long. She was a horrible liar.

And within seconds, she gave up. "Gah, you're so nosy," she admonished, tossing her hair dramatically. I just grinned, allowing her to go on with a faux sigh and an admitted, "Okay, I like Jack. What of it? He's always with you and Mike now, anyway," Darla complained.

"No he's not," I disagreed, laughing at her dramatics. "Jack is friends with all of us, Darls."

"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "I just feel like you three are always together now. I never get you to myself, Max."

"I'm with you right now," I pointed out quizzically. I didn't understand what she was getting at.

Darla just sighed again. She opened her mouth, looking like she wanted to say something else, but then decided against it and just smiled again. "Whatever," she said finally, jumping off the bed. "Come on, I recorded West Side Story. Let's go watch it."

I hopped off the bed and quickly followed her, laughing and talking as we made ourselves a bowl of popcorn and settled down with the movie. Mike, Jack, and Omega were not brought up again for the rest of the night. I thought she had dropped the subject, decided that I was right and that Mike and her got equal amounts of Jack's and my time and attention.

But was too late when I finally realized how she really felt about Mike.

"Hey Max," Omega greeted me, smiling as he plopped down beside me on the bench. It was break between fifth and sixth period, and I was spending my time waiting on a bench outside the history classroom.

I looked up, feeling a returning grin already surfacing as giddy bubbles rose in my stomach. "Hi Omega," I replied brightly, looking him boldly in the eyes before quickly glancing back down to the binder in my hands. Ever since my chat with Darla about my crush on Omega a few days ago, it had seemed ten times harder to act normally around him.

He ignored my less than suave behavior, choosing to continue smiling instead. Bless his heart. "Do you have any plans after school today?" Omega inquired.

"Well," I started to say, thinking of my promise to go for ice cream with Jack and Mike.

Omega interrupted me. "'Cause I need to get a new bat before baseball season starts up again, and I wanted to know if you wanted to go to Athletics with me," he explained, looking somewhat nervous as he spoke.

My eyes snapped to his face again. "With you?" I repeated stupidly.

Omega smiled. "With me," he confirmed, looking amused.

I fought the urge to smack myself in the face, instead going for a cool smile. "Sounds good," I heard myself say. "I wanted to check out the cleats before I dragged my mom there this weekend. Mine got torn in my last game."

"Ouch." Omega winced sympathetically, fully understanding how close sports equipment can grow to one's heart. Torn cleats was practically a murder case in my eyes. "Yeah, we can look over their soccer cleats too," he agreed.

"Thanks," I replied, smiling at him again. I couldn't seem to stop doing that. Omega had asked me to go with him after school. Alone. Admittedly, a trip to the sports store wasn't exactly romantic, but I was content to go if it meant spending time with Omega. Just because I didn't want a boyfriend didn't mean that my crush was any less real and embarrassingly in control of my actions.

But…

"I would love to go with you, but I already have plans with Mike and Jack," I explained regretfully. "I can't just ditch them."

I had expected an 'aww, that's too bad. Some other time maybe?' type of reply, but that is definitely not what I got.

Instead, Omega's eyebrows furrowed, and he looked suddenly serious. "Oh," he said, "actually, I was going to tell you about that Max."

"What?" I asked, confused by this turn of events. "Tell me what?"

"Well…" Omega hesitated, biting his lip slightly. "Mike has done some pretty strange things lately."

"What?" I asked dubiously. "Like what? What do you mean, 'strange'?" Mike wasn't exactly the most normal of kids, but his behavior had only improved since we had befriended him. He was smiling a lot more, and had stopped causing trouble in classes. Well, he had stopped causing _as much_ trouble. There was still a lot of room for improvement where his classroom manners were concerned. He would never be a model student, but at least he wasn't in detention every day anymore.

"Like…" Omega paused again, still looking unsure. "I don't know exactly how to say this," he admitted.

I rolled my eyes, garnering up the confidence to shoulder bump him teasingly. "Well, spit it out," I prompted. "There's only a few minutes before break en-"

"Mike beat up a couple third graders," Omega blurted out suddenly.

I froze, my smile dying on my lips. "What?" I heard my voice ask, sounding far away.

Omega just stared at me, obviously unwilling to repeat what he said. But I was in shock, unable to process what he had just said, and he was forced to say it again. "Mike beat up two third graders after school yesterday," he said softly, looking regretful to be the one telling me this. "They were annoying him, yelling stupid insults and stuff, and he just turned and started throwing punches. I'm sorry, Max," he added quietly.

Was he joking? How could he say such a thing? But there was no hint of a lack of solemnity on Omega's face. He was dead serious."But… how? Why?" I whispered, my voice sounding broken. Omega winced as I continued to speak. "Why would Mike do that to a couple of little kids?"

"I don't know," Omega sighed, looking away from me. He adjusted the brim of his baseball cap, fidgeting slightly. "But he did. Jerry Welsch and Nathan Gerring."

That tore even more at my heart, and I heard myself gasp softly. Jerry and Nathan were mischievous little kids, cute and funny with matching bright blue eyes and spiky blonde hair cuts. They were inseparable, and had been known on more than one occasion to team up and bother older kids to the point of chasing them, laughing and shrieking, away.

But nobody ever tried to hurt them before. They were only seven and a half years old. They barely knew any better, only that it was funny to watch the older kids get irritated, and even more fun to have them run after them, yelling out meaningless, empty threats they could giggle over together later.

And Mike had… Mike had beaten… Mike had hit them?

I couldn't believe it.

And yet, I could.

He had lashed out at other kids before. After math one day, Daryl Stogund had made a snide comment on Mike's inability to answer a question in class, and Mike had whirled around and socked him hard in the arm. Daryl could barely move it for five minutes, the muscle was so sore from the hit. And when Vince Johnson was rounding third in a baseball game during PE, Mike blatantly tripped the boy to make sure he didn't run home. He had his violent moments, that was for sure. Mike had as bad a temper as me, one that flared up and refused to die down, and he was just as strong as I was. He had the potential to really hurt someone.

Could those someones be Jerry and Nathan? They were only in third grade. How could he do such a thing to those little kids?

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I could see the two boys in mention leaving the hallway that led away from the playground and heading back towards their classroom across campus. My heart stopped.

Both of them sported bright blue casts on their left arms. There was a dark bruise spreading across Nathan's cheek, and Jerry had a band aid taped rakishly across his small forehead.

Mike had really hurt them.

I forgot about Omega standing beside me as I stared after the little boys, trudging through the hallways with their casted arms tucked in slings at their sides. He had broken their arms. _Mike had broken two little boys' arms._

I had just spoken to him at lunch, less than two hours ago, and he had been smiling and laughing without a care in the world. How could he be so… monstrous?

I had to find him. Now.

"Max? Where are you going?" Omega called after me, standing there in confusion as I stormed away.

"To find Mike," I growled back. "And yell at him until his ears bleed." I didn't hear Omega's reply, if he gave any, as I broke into a run and started towards the English classroom, which I knew was Mike's next class.

_How could he?..._ Rage filled my ears with a roar that drowned out everything else. The campus blurred by as teachers yelled at me to slow down and stop running, as I jostled past kids holding binders, as I got closer and closer to Mike.

I found him standing outside the classroom, leaning casually back against the wall with his eyes closed. There was at least a ten foot radius on every side of him where nobody wanted to stand, and now I finally understood why. I thought Mike was just misunderstood. I thought he just needed friends to help him shape up a little. I thought I knew who he was.

I thought wrong.

Mike's eyes flew open as soon as my hands hit his shoulders, shoving him roughly back against the wall. "What the hell?" he hissed, dark eyes glaring at me. "Max? What's wrong with you?" he demanded, brushing my hands away from him and standing up straight. I still stood about two inches taller than Mike though, so this change of stance did nothing to intimidate me.

"What is wrong with _you?_" I countered, glaring just as fiercely back at him. "How could you do that?"

Mike just blinked coolly at me, unaffected by my anger. "I don't know what you're talking about," he informed me haughtily, his mouth settling into a cold sneer that I had never had directed at me before. "You're the one who came up and just shoved me against a wall for no reason."

"No reason?" I scoffed back. "I have plenty of reason, Mike! I know what you did to Nathan and Jerry! Omega told me!" I stared hard at him, waiting for his suave façade to crack and for the panic to start bubbling out. This could get him suspended, or expelled. It really should have already. Why hadn't it? Didn't Nathan or Jerry tell anybody that Mike had given them those injuries? Or had he threatened them into keeping quiet?

"Who are those kids?" was Mike's bored sounding reply. "I don't know what garbage Omega has been feeding you, but you're pretty gullible if you believed it, Max."

This did nothing to satiate my anger. It only made it worse. Much, much worse. I swear the edges of my vision went white with fury as I glared as hard as I could at the person who I thought was my friend. "Don't talk about Omega like that," I snapped. "At least he doesn't lie to me! Or beat up innocent third graders!"

There. I said it. It was out in the open, for Mike to hear that I knew of his misdeeds. What would he do now?

Mike just raised an eyebrow at me. "Beat up third graders?" he repeated slowly. Mike's dark eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms as he stared calculatingly at me. I stood firm, not allowing my gaze to waver from his. "It sounds to me like Omega really is lying to you, Maxie," Mike said finally. "He told you that I beat up third graders? Why would I waste my time doing something stupid like that?"

"Because they were bothering you, and we both know what a horrible temper you have! You've hit people before, Mike. Why should I think you wouldn't do it again?" I demanded hotly. It really annoyed me that he was insulting Omega so much. What reason did Omega really have to lie to me about this? This wasn't exactly a small matter. And I had seen Nathan and Jerry myself. They were extremely beat up. "I saw them with my own eyes. You really hurt them badly," I added accusingly.

"You really think that little of me, Max?" Mike shot back bitingly, glaring more heatedly than before. "You think I would do that? Shows how much of a friend you are!"

"I thought you were my friend! I thought I was your friend," I retorted. "But my friends don't hurt innocent little kids!"

Mike laughed harshly, taking a step forward and getting in my face. I stood stock still, not letting my glare lessen at all as he came closer. "Let me tell you one thing, Maxie," Mike said, his voice poisonously soft. "I didn't think my friends would believe such complete lies without a second thought. If you want to think I'm the reason a couple of kids look like they're beat up, be my guest. Just don't yell at me for it, since _I didn't do it_," he hissed.

I refused to let my resolve waver. "I don't want to yell at you anymore," I replied evenly. "I don't want to talk to you ever again. So you can consider me off the friends list for you, Mike." I narrowed my eyes at him, then stepped back. "I'm going to be late for history," I continued, "so I just want to say one last thing. You should be ashamed of yourself. I have a temper just like yours, but at least I can control it." I turned around and started to walk away, my anger still simmering through my veins.

Mike's laughing voice didn't make me stop, not even as he yelled after me. "You've never controlled your temper before, Max, and you never will!" he shouted. I ignored the strange looks the other kids sent me as I made my way proudly out of the hallway, and headed back towards my own classroom.

I had to tell Jack about this. He would not be able to believe it.

I couldn't get Mike's voice out of my head though, even through my fury. I could control my temper, and very well in my opinion. I had never beat up a pair of third graders for being annoying, after all, and that was more than Mike could claim. He had no right to say that to me. I was in total control of my temper.

So why did I feel like I so badly needed reassurance of that?

"Mike did what?" Jack asked dubiously, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Yes, he did," I confirmed, fuming. I paced up and down the back hallway, my backpack thumping against my shoulder blades as a result of my irritated, choppy steps. I had grabbed Jack by the wrist and dragged him out here behind the art classroom as soon as I could after school, intent on telling him about my discovery about Mike's true colors. "Isn't that awful?"

"Yeah, but… Mike wouldn't do that," Jack replied firmly. "Where did you hear that?"

I threw my hands up in the air in disgust. "I didn't think he would do that either, but Omega told me he did! Why would Omega lie to me? Why?" I demanded fiercely.

Jack simply stared evenly back at me, unruffled by my outburst. "I don't know why he would do that, Max," he admitted. "But something about this just doesn't ring true. We can't go jumping to conclusions because of a rumor Omega heard."

"I can jump to any conclusion I want in this case," I declared, crossing my arms angrily. "I saw Jerry and Nathan. They have casts and bruises and cuts and everything! How could Mike do that to third graders? He broke their arms! So don't go blaming me for jumping to conclusions!"

Now Jack started to look angry. "Oh, I forgot that you're Max Ride," he snapped, eyes flashing with anger. "You can't find out all the facts first to anything. You just leap to conclusions and go charging off! It's practically your middle name! We should just call you Maximum 'Charging Off' Ride," Jack sneered.

I was taken aback by his attitude. This was a side I had never seen of Jack, and I sure as hell didn't like it half as much as his normal sweet, reasonable persona. It reminded me of the way Mike had acted when I confronted him earlier. "What are you talking about?" I shot back, unable to hide the hurt in my voice. "I don't charge off!"

Jack softened a little. "Okay, maybe it's not a bad thing most of the time," he conceded, the tense anger in the set of his shoulders fading slightly. "But I think we should ask Mike about this, Max. Hear his side of the story."

I hesitated, torn between my fury at what Omega had told me and being persuaded by Jack's calm, logical reasoning. And I had already gone and yelled at Mike. I couldn't just go back a class period later and ask him for his story. "I… I don't know," I hedged. "I don't know if I can talk to him yet after hearing that from Omega."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You're being silly, Max," he chided me. "I'll go talk to him if you won't."

"Wait, Jack," I stopped him. I couldn't just let him go and find out from Mike that I had already yelled at him for what I had found out about him. That would make things worse.

"Yes, Max?" Jack asked cautiously. He took one look at the expression on my face and started to brace himself for anything, I could tell.

I took a short breath in to give myself a little extra courage. "I kinda already… charged off," I admitted quietly.

Jack groaned, slapping his hand across his forehead in despair. "Why would you do that?" he demanded.

"You were the one who said it's my middle name!" I protested weakly. "I couldn't think. I was furious."

"I'm going to go talk to him, and find out what's happening," Jack informed me, sounding resigned to playing peacemaker once more. "I think he said something about going to the park instead of coming for ice cream with us in sixth period. Probably because of you yelling at him?" Jack guessed. I winced guiltily, and he sighed in resignation. "I'll get back to you on that, okay?"

"Okay," I muttered, feeling somewhat abashed. Of course, I had no reason to believe that Omega was lying to me, but in retrospect it probably wasn't the best idea to go blindly off and scream at Mike for it.

Whoops.

I would just have to rely on Jack's magic abilities at soothing people's anger to save me this time. And in the meantime, I would have to go find Omega and scrape more information out of him about this whole thing. Was Jack right? Had Omega lied to me?

I really, really hoped not. How could he lie to me? He was my friend, my best friend. He wouldn't just tell me that Mike had done such a horrible thing for no reason… would he?

But when I finally found Omega again, all of my hopes were instantly crushed.

"Omega!" I called, breaking into a jog as I spotted him sitting alone in the school baseball dugout. I had known he would be there. It was his usual haunt after school, especially when he was thinking hard about something. And if he was lying, I had no doubt he would be there. As soon as he spotted me, Omega jumped instantly to his feet, his eyes snapping to mine and then quickly glancing away. He shuffled his glove uneasily in his hands, and my heart sank.

He was feeling guilty.

I already knew what was going to happen. And judging by the way Omega looked as if he was preparing to flee, I knew that he did too.

I stopped in my tracks, staring at those blue eyes I trusted so much. "You lied to me, didn't you?" I heard myself ask, sounding far away, detached.

Omega winced. "Max," he started to say, sounding like he was gearing up to fight for his innocence. But I wasn't about to let him start. This was personal. He had crushed my trust under those baseball cleats of his.

And it hurt. It hurt badly.

"I trusted you!" I yelled, glaring fiercely at Omega. "You're my friend, and you lied to my face without even blinking! How could you _do _something like that? How?"

Omega flinched, his whole face scribbled with conflict. "Max, I'm sorry," he tried to say.

"No, you don't get to apologize!" I cut him off, crossing my arms and turning away angrily. "You don't get to say anything else to me. I have to go find Mike and hope he can forgive me for listening to your filthy lies."

"It was Darla!" Omega protested, obviously fishing for something to keep me from charging off.

It worked. I stopped dead in my tracks, my arms falling limply to my sides as I slowly turned back around to face him again. "What?" I asked, deadly calm as I stared him down.

Omega swallowed thickly, blue eyes full of regret as he stared earnestly back at me. "It was," he insisted, a hint of relief tingeing his voice. "Darla was jealous that you and Jack were spending all that time with Mike and leaving us in the dust, and she told me that I had to help her get you guys back…" Omega trailed off weakly, watching my face intently for a reaction.

Darla set up this web of lies. Sweet, loveable, friendly Darla. My best friend Darla.

And Omega had just gone along with it.

"Why did she rope you into it?" I demanded, trying to hold onto my anger as it tried to slip away. I needed my anger now, because if I wasn't angry I was going to be upset, and there was no way I was letting Omega see me break down and cry after all of this. "Why didn't she just tell me she wanted to spend more time with me?"

"She did tell you," Omega disagreed. "Darla kept trying to get you to herself more often, but you would always include Mike or me or Jack into the bargain as well. She just wanted your attention, and he was taking all of it."

I let this sink in for a moment. "But I didn't… she never…" I trailed off mid-protest, trying to think of how I could've possibly missed the signs of Darla's jealousy. It had just never occurred to me that she didn't like me including everyone when we got together. She was such a bubbly, friendly, happy person that I had never thought she wouldn't want to hang out with everyone. We were all friends, weren't we? "Darla doesn't get jealous over me," I finally decided on, narrowing my eyes at Omega.

"Oh yeah?" Omega actually snorted, looking skeptically at me. "Darla is possessive over her friends, Max. Mike was threatening in her eyes, and she wanted me to help her get you away from him."

"Why you?" I demanded again. "You didn't answer me the first time, Omega."

Suddenly, he looked uncomfortable. And then out of nowhere— he started blushing.

Yeah. _Blushing_.

And then it got worse. He started stammering out incoherent sentences too.

"Well… umm, she said… err, well, basically… Darla thought… you know, since you… uh…"

This was not the appropriate time or place for Omega to start acting like a little girl. I needed answers. Now.

"Omega!" I snapped, interrupting his useless mumbling. "Why did Darla want you to feed me this?"

"Because she knew you liked me and thought it'd be more effective coming from me, since it obviously wasn't working coming from her!" Omega blurted out.

Dead. Silence.

She… told him that?

"What?" I croaked, suddenly unable to pull together any shred of anger. All I felt was emptiness. Complete emptiness. "She told you that?"

"Yeah," Omega muttered, reaching up to grab his neck. He was embarrassed, I could tell.

Well that sucked for him. I was _mortified_. "Oh my God," I moaned, clapping my hands over my face to hide my reddening cheeks. "Why would she do that to me?"

"Well, she also mentioned that she was going to help you out by telling me that, since apparently you told her you were never going to say anything yourself," Omega supplied helpfully.

"Great," I groaned. I dropped my hands, summoning up the acting skills inside of myself to glare at Omega again. "I don't feel like that anymore," I informed him as coldly as I could. I couldn't let him think that I was still vulnerable to him, even after all this. My trust for both of them had been crushed.

Omega only stared levelly at me. "Okay," he replied, his voice completely calm. "I deserve that."

"You don't deserve anything," I snarled, turning on my heel again and preparing to walk away. "I'm going to find Mike and apologize. I can't believe I trusted you. I can't believe you would do that with my trust. What is wrong with you?" I demanded, fisting my hands at my sides. Ah, there was the returning anger I needed. Just in time.

"I'm sorry," Omega said behind me. "I shouldn't have done it."

"No, you shouldn't have," I agreed quietly, not letting any emotion into my voice.

I had to find Mike. It didn't matter that he was probably furious with me, and I hadn't give Jack enough time to calm him down properly. But I couldn't just sit back and wait for Jack's charms to sink in. I had to fix this myself, or I would be losing all of my friends today.

Omega. Darla. Mike. Would I lose Jack too, after all of this?

I was afraid to find out. But I had to, and I had to do it right now.

"You're coming with me," I informed Omega suddenly, reaching over and grabbing him roughly by the elbow. He barely had time to swipe up his baseball glove from the bench before I was dragging him across the grass and back towards the school campus. It was only about half an hour after school was out, and kids were still milling around in groups. I brushed past all of them, heading for the library.

"Where are we going?" Omega asked tentatively. He obviously didn't want to set me off again, but the kid was confused by my sudden decision to take a field trip.

"To get Darla, and then to apologize to Mike," I replied briskly, keeping my eyes forward. "You owe it to him, and you owe it to me."

Omega was silent, and I knew that he was afraid to make a comment on that. We stayed quiet as we both pushed open the double doors to the library and headed inside.

Darla was seated at one of the tables near the front, scribbling something down in a notebook and chatting softly with another girl we knew, Veronica. I came up and stood in front of their table, Omega trailing a little behind me. "Darla," I said quietly, taking both of the girls' attention off of their notebooks.

Darla smiled brightly up at us, but faltered as she noticed my stony expression and Omega standing helplessly behind me. Slowly, her smile faded, and she looked quickly back down at her notebook. "Hi Max. Hey Omega," she offered weakly, her voice much smaller than normal. Darla wasn't dumb. She knew that her little plan had failed.

"Would you mind coming with us?" I asked, my voice indicating that this wasn't actually a request. She was in deep trouble, and she knew it.

Darla hesitated, of course. "Well, I promised Veronica I would help her study for the history test," she hedged.

"Oh, I should be fine if you need to go with them, Darla," Veronica assured her helpfully, unaware of the tensions running high between us.

"Are you sure?" Darla tried to ask, obviously reluctant to go with me when I was so visibly pissed off.

I cut her off, though, smiling tightly at Veronica. "Thanks V, I knew you would understand," I told her. Without another word, I grabbed Darla's arm and tugged her up from the table, only allowing her to slip her notebook into her backpack before pulling both her and Omega out the door again.

"Sooo…" Darla started to say as soon as we were out of the library.

I interrupted again, whirling to glare at her. "You don't get to talk to me," I informed her roughly, narrowing my eyes at the girl I called one of my best friends. "I don't know what you were thinking, or why you didn't think I wouldn't find out it was all a lie, but you and Omega are going to go to Mike and apologize on your hands and knees for making me believe he beat up those kids."

"But Max," Darla tried to say again. "We were just trying to-"

I ignored her, turning back around and pulling the two along by their wrists. We left campus, heading along the familiar route to Briar Park. Neither Omega or Darla attempted to speak to me again, obviously well chastised by my anger.

When we hit the entrance to the park, I didn't hesitate before turning onto the path that led to the playground. Mike had a thing about monkey bars –it was his only childish personality trait that I knew of. If they were nearby, he was drawn to them. He loved sitting on the top of them, dangling his legs down, hanging by his knees and letting the blood rush to his head, sprawled flat across the top. Mike just loved monkey bars. Maybe it was a power thing, about being higher than everyone else, able to see everything else from the vantage point. Or maybe it was some bright memory in his short, unfortunate past.

I wasn't surprised to find Jack and Mike sitting atop the bars, talking quietly as they watched the little kids running around below them. Mike's gray eyes were trained solely on a pair of little boys with casts binding their arms, who were running around without a care in the world. Jerry and Nathan. They were doing perfectly well, despite their injuries.

"What happened to them, anyway?" I asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had gathered between Darla, Omega and I. "Why are they hurt, if the story about Mike was a lie?"

Darla winced, not meeting my eyes as she looked over to Jerry and Nathan. "They were climbing trees in this park a couple days ago, and fell from a couple of high branches," she admitted quietly. "When I saw them yesterday with their casts and bruises I thought of this. It's not Omega's fault, Max. It's mine."

"Oh, it's Omega's fault too," I replied shortly. "He went along with it." Darla didn't answer again, and Omega said nothing to defend himself. We walked in silence the remaining distance between ourselves and the monkey bars. We came up behind the two boys, and I stepped up onto the first metal rung as I drew up the courage to speak. "Hey, Mike, Jack," I called up. "I brought some visitors."

Jack turned around immediately, but Mike didn't bother to look over. He stayed facing the same direction, obviously unimpressed with my presence. "Darla?" Jack asked quizzically, looking down at her.

Darla blushed, looking away. "I'm sorry Jack," she muttered, sounding close to tears.

Jack still looked confused, so I decided to clear things up for him. "The lie was her idea," I explained shortly. "Omega was going along with her."

Understanding dawned on Jack's face, and his blue eyes clouded with disappointment as he looked back down at Darla again. "Why would you do that?" he asked softly, his voice heavy.

"I don't know," Darla confessed, sniffing loudly. "I was jealous. I wasn't thinking."

"Of course you weren't thinking," Mike snapped, whirling around suddenly. It was a miracle he kept his balance up on top of the monkey bars while moving that quickly. "Why would you say that stuff about me? Why?"

"I'm sorry, Mike, it was wrong of me and I regret it," Darla apologized quickly, her face earnest as she looked up at him. "I was wrong."

"I'm sorry as well," Omega added, staring up at Mike. "I shouldn't have done it either."

Mike looked down at the two of them calculatingly, as if deciding his next move. Then he hopped lithely down from the bars, landing softly on his feet and taking a step forward to get closer to Omega and Darla. I was still on the rungs of the bars, Jack still seated above me, and we were both powerless to do anything as Mike suddenly snarled and lunged forward, shoving Darla roughly to the ground.

Jack yelled above me, and I froze, staring at the scene playing out in front of me. "Mike! What are you doing?" Jack shouted, scrambling to get down from the bars.

Omega was still standing in front of Mike as Darla lay, shocked, on the tanbark of the playground. Suddenly, he seemed to realize what had just happened. Before Jack or I could do anything, Omega had stepped forward and shoved Mike back in retaliation. Mike fell backwards, landing on his elbows with the wind knocked out of him. Omega stood there for a moment, satisfied with his rebuttal, when Jack lunged for him and punched him straight in the chest. Omega doubled over, clutching the spot of impact, and staring up incredulously at an angry Jack.

I was in shock. What had started out as an apology had turned into an all-out brawl, with Omega defending Darla and Jack defending Mike. Were these people really the ones who I hung out with everyday? The ones I ate ice cream with and had invented Idiotball with me?

Then I realized that Darla had managed to recover from her fall. She sprang up and was slapping wildly at Jack's head as he attempted to fight her off, while Omega wrestled with Mike on the tanbark. My friends fought each other, blindly hitting and kicking as they rolled around on the tanbark. Dimly, I heard parents yelling as they realized what was going on under the monkey bars, and noticed that smaller children were being snatched away from our vicinity as the battle waged on.

Then my mind went blank. A strange rush of adrenaline pelted through my body, and I felt a scream leave my lips as I jumped off the rungs of the monkey bars. "STOP IT!" I shrieked, reaching forward and tearing Darla off of Jack's flailing body. I shook her back and forth as she tried to claw her way out of my arms, and as soon as she stopped struggling threw her roughly off to the side, out of harm's way. I then whirled around and pushed Jack backward in the opposite direction so they both were out of the fray. This only left Omega and Mike rolling around, punching and kicking and scratching and wrestling, wildly out of control. "I SAID, _STOP IT!" _I screamed again, lunging forward and grabbing Omega by the underarms. With a surge of strength I didn't know I had, I pulled him off of Mike, ripping the sleeve of his jacket out of Mike's hand as he attempted to hold on to his opponent. Omega writhed in my hold, fighting to get back towards Mike, so I held him by the shoulder with one hand and slapped him sharply across the face with the other.

The loud crack of my palm on his cheek resounded in the still air, and Omega's gaze finally ripped away from Mike to stare incredulously at me. "What are you all doing?" I demanded shrilly, shoving Omega backwards away from me. He staggered for a moment before losing his balance and falling almost on top of where I had tossed Darla. Luckily for her, Omega managed to check himself and land a little to her left, the air escaping his lungs with an audible 'oomph'. I glared around at all of them, feeling the energy sizzling through my veins giving me the confidence I needed to snap, "Well? What's _wrong_ with all of you?"

I stared at my friends, breathing heavily, and wondered what the hell had just happened. In just minutes, there were nail marks all over Jack's face, while Darla's braids had started to unravel, Omega's sleeve was ripped and he had blood leaking from his lip, and Mike lay there with a slowly swelling eye. They were disheveled and torn up, all in a matter of what, forty five seconds?

This was a disaster.

Omega was dead silent, no emotion visible on his face as he sat up on his elbows and stared at me. Darla sniffed loudly, and I could see tears streaming down her cheeks as her eyes started to redden. Jack lay there in shock, blue eyes wide as he stared at me with an indescribable look on his face.

And Mike, Mike just narrowed his eyes and glared at me, completely unruffled by his fight. "You're going to pay, Max," he hissed, sitting up slightly and cocking his head at me. "All of you are going to pay for this."

The adrenaline rushing through my head allowed me to just narrow my eyes right back and laugh at him. "What? Are you going to try to beat us all up again or something?" I sneered, setting my fists haughtily at my hips. He couldn't hurt me. Mike would never be able to hurt me.

"You think you're just invincible, don't you?" Mike continued, his voice deadly soft. Those gray eyes I thought I knew so well glittered coldly as he laughed right back at me. "What about Ella? Is your baby sister invincible too?" he taunted.

I tensed all over at the mention of Ella's name. What was he trying to say?

Mike kept laughing, obviously noticing my reaction. "Oh, you don't like that Maxie?" he asked darkly. "Maybe invincibility isn't a family trait then. Maybe I can just hurt your sister instead, and it'll hurt you just as much as it will hurt he-"

Mike didn't get to finish his sentence. I struck him first.

I don't remember much of what happened next, only a blinding, choking rage filling my whole body from head to toe, and the sounds of my friends all screaming at me to stop. Their voices were filled with confusion, panic, and fear. Their hands clawed at my arms, trying to hold me back, trying to hold back the rage from spilling out of me.

"Max! _Stop!_"

"What are you doing Max? Stop kicking him! Stop it!"

"Max, he's not going to hurt Ella! You're hurting him!"

"_STOP IT MAX! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!"_

Pain. Fury. The urge to get rid of this threat to my sister.

"_MAX!"_

He was threatening to hurt her.

"_STOP IT! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!"_

I… what?

"MAX!"

I ended up on the ground, struggling against the restraints of Omega's, Darla's, and Jack's arms, and shrieking wordlessly as loudly as I could. I writhed and bucked, but suddenly a sharp bolt of pain pierced the foggy cloud of anger surrounding my mind. I lay still, breathing heavily, and tried to figure out what the source of the pain was.

My eyes finally landed on my feet. They pulsed with pain, and when I tried to move my toes, I bit back a sharp gasp of pain. Blood oozed out of the holes my shoelaces snaked through, and I stared at the liquid uncomprehendingly.

As soon as my friends realized I had stopped fighting, all three of them instantly let go of me and left my side. I sat up slowly in confusion, trying to avoid moving my feet, and looked around to see where they had gone.

The three of them were clustered around a bundle of dark cloth, a curled up body prone on the tanbark. I stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly was happening.

Then the body moaned, a low, helpless sound that wailed its way through my head. I froze, my breath catching as I slowly maneuvered myself into a position to see around Darla's torso.

The body was Mike. A pale-faced, half-unconscious Mike who was curled up in the fetal position and weakly clutching his ribs.

I didn't fully understand what had happened until a few hours later, when both Mike and I had been checked into the hospital. My injuries: two broken feet, several fractured toes. Mike's injuries: six broken ribs and internal bleeding.

It didn't take a genius to piece together what happened, and what I realized after hearing this summary of events was confirmed by my mother when she came into my hospital room around seven o' clock, when she got off work.

I had leaped on Mike, and kicked him in the stomach unceasingly, not stopping when his ribs snapped, not stopping when the bones of my own feet began to crack, not stopping when blood began staining my shoes and his shirt, not stopping when my friends had tried unsuccessfully to pull me away from him…

I had been a wild animal. I had been unstoppable.

I had been a monster.

We never told Ella the whole truth behind why I was stuck in a wheelchair with my broken feet, or why we moved away from the little town in Florida. She didn't even get a chance to find out I had been expelled, seeing as we were both withdrawn from school in order to pack. Mom was enraged and horrified, and couldn't believe that I had done that to my own friend. I didn't try to explain for my actions. There was no explanation.

I stared down at my sneakers as I finished retelling the story, remembering the day when they had to cut my blood-soaked shoes off of my feet in order not to further injure my broken bones. Now I was sitting on a bench in a different park, in a different state, on the opposite side of the country. I sat here with Fang, telling him the story I had tried so hard to forget about as my feet healed and my family left behind all evidence of that day.

Fang was the first person I had ever told the full story to except for my mom.

I glanced up at him now, only to find him staring out across the path and into the trees. I wondered if he would end up getting up and leaving, if he would shun me, if he would never want to talk to me again now that he knew what a monster I really was. "Fang?" I asked hesitantly.

Fang slowly turned his head down to look at me, dark eyes unreadable. "That kid, Mike?" he started, staring at me intently.

I swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah?" I managed to say. My voice cracked even in that one simple word, just thinking about the story I had retold to Fang. Even today I couldn't fully forgive myself for doing that to him.

"He started the whole fight," Fang continued quietly. "He could have handled it with words. Even yelling at the friends who lied would have been better than pushing them down. He deserved everything he got."

I stared at him, a little uncomprehendingly. "But I broke his ribs," I heard myself say, sounding a little lost.

Fang looked at me for another moment, a strange look in his eyes, before slowly curling an arm around my back and pulling me against his side. I let myself lean into him, closing my eyes and laying my head carefully on his shoulder. Against my will, I felt tears start to pool in the corners of my eyes, and I tried to squeeze them away without him noticing.

It didn't work. Within seconds I felt Fang's finger gently brush away a tiny bead of a tear that had escaped onto my cheekbone, and I knew he had caught my waterworks. "It was not your fault," Fang murmured, tugging me into a hug. "You were protecting someone you cared about. It's like what happened with Nudge and those soccer players before," he reasoned. Fang's other arm snaked over and pulled me harder against him. I snuggled into him, not caring about this moment of weakness, only seeking to know that he didn't think less of me because of my confession.

"It was my fault," I whispered, staring at his collarbone an inch from my eyes. My head was tucked under his chin, and I was glad he couldn't see the tears trickling slowly done my face anymore. "I hurt him. I hurt him badly. I hurt _myself_ badly, and I couldn't stop. Three kids had to drag me away from him, while a couple of the adults nearby pulled Mike further away so I couldn't get to him." I paused briefly, taking a deep breath before adding, almost inaudibly, "_I was out of my mind_."

My words hung in the air for a moment, the doubts and worries that had been clawing at the back of my mind for years. They were out in the open for Fang to judge.

"You're not insane," he said immediately, his voice firm and immobile. I was comforted by his instant conviction, but that wasn't really what I had meant.

"No, I'm not like clinically insane," I agreed, sighing softly. "I just literally was out of my mind there. When it happened… it was like everything disappeared except what I was feeling. Pain, anger, threat. And when they finally pinned me down and I realized my feet were hurting, it was like the world came back and I had been gone for a few minutes. And that's not the only time it's happened before, either."

Fang pondered that for a few minutes. I just sat in his arms, savoring the feeling of being surrounded by him. He didn't think I was a monster. He knew what I had done to Mike, and he didn't think I was a monster.

All I could feel for a second was a huge wave of relief, crashing down on my shoulders with an indescribably calming, cool feeling. He didn't think I was a monster.

"You were angry, and threatened, and your body took over," Fang finally said. His abrupt remark took me by surprise, and I had to process it for a moment before I understood.

"You're saying it's just a defense mechanism?" I confirmed, raising my head to look him in the eyes.

Fang nodded. "Yeah, exactly," he agreed. "When your mind gets overloaded with emotion, your body acts for you. It's not you doing those things, not really."

I groaned, digging my face back into his shoulder. "That just makes it worse," I muttered. "I'm not in control of myself. I can't just lose control! My mom says I'm more powerful than I think I am, and I have a bad feeling that she's right." I sighed moodily, closing my eyes again. "I don't want to be that strong if I'm just going to end up hurting people. I'm afraid of doing that, Fang," I admitted. "Mom tried to teach me ways to defend myself without hurting other people like Mi…Mike." I gulped as I said his name, then took another deep breath. Telling the story again had really resurfaced a lot of bad feelings. "But I'm afraid that I'll always be in danger of losing control. Like when I pushed you in the living room the other day."

"Yeah," Fang murmured, tightening his grip on me. "You looked almost like you were fighting with yourself."

"I was," I replied softly. "Part of me just wanted to hit you, as hard as I could. And the other part wanted to keep calm, keep control. I almost gave in to hitting you. It was all I could do to turn into just a push." I squeezed my eyes shut tighter at the memory.

We were silent for awhile, the only sound being the breeze blowing through the trees. We listened to it, and I let the tears dry on my cheeks as I tried to shove the memories of the fifth grade fight back down into the back of my mind. "Thank you for telling me," Fang said abruptly, his voice soft and soothing.

I pulled back a little to look seriously into his eyes. "Thank you for not thinking I'm a monster," I told him, my voice rasping with held back emotion.

"How could I think you're a monster, Max?" Fang asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he gazed back at me.

"I think I am," I replied honestly. We stared at each other, neither wavering, wondering who was going to speak first.

Fang did. "You shouldn't," he said simply, reaching up with one hand to touch my cheek. "There are monsters in this world, Max, but you aren't one of them," he told me seriously. "Okay?"

I blinked hard, willing myself not to unleash the waterworks again. I had cried enough for one day. "Okay," I gulped, pursing my lips tightly together.

The movement drew Fang's gaze to my mouth, and the fingers on my cheek slowly reached over and touched my lips until they loosened again. My heart pounded in my chest as he slowly, quietly leaned over and replaced his fingers with his lips. My eyes closed by themselves, and I felt that wave of relief hit my shoulders again.

I wasn't a monster.

**Someone's POV**

"I'm not in control of myself. I can't just lose control!"

_You're right Max, you aren't in control. But don't worry about losing control– you can't lose something you never had to begin with._

"My mom says I'm more powerful than I think I am, and I have a bad feeling that she's right."

_Dr. Martinez is right about a lot of things. She's smart, and she's crafty. But this time she hasn't realized just who we have working on the inside of things. She hasn't managed to move you into a different state yet, and we only need a little longer of you staying in this one spot for our plans to continue._

"I don't want to be that strong if I'm just going to end up hurting people. I'm afraid of doing that, Fang."

_And that, my dear, is exactly the fear we will use to control you._

**Is it just me, or does anyone else find that there's an intensely creepy dark side to yourself that only comes out when you're writing? Mine shows up in these weirdass 'Someone's POV's.**

**I've decided that the only way I'm forgiving Fang for leaving the flock and being a total bastard in the last book is if he sings Cher's Want You Back to Max in Nevermore. Anyone with me? XD**

**WAIT A MINUTE I HAVE SOME SHAMELESS ADVERTISING TO DO! =D So if anyone gets pissed off at me for never updating anymore, I have a pretty long romance oneshot on fictionpress if you'd like to check it out. I'm immensely proud of it, and I'd be honored if you looked it up! It's called **The Piano Notes by Noon Breeze**. Thank you in advance! =D**

**Review? I actually got some real plot in here! Impressive, is it not? **

**~TMI~**


	39. Max Baxter

**DEDICATED TO: MangaSockAttack, BlackVenom, and MCRDegrassi217!**

**I AM EXTREMELY AGGRAVATED WITH JAMES PATTERSON. I MEAN, SERIOUSLY? THE VOICE'S IDENTITY DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE AT ALL, AND NEVERMORE'S PLOTLINE IN GENERAL HAS THE SUBSTANCE OF A C+ LEVEL FANFICTION. GAHHHHHHH.**

The weekend flew by, with me learning to navigate on crutches and Mom standing worriedly nearby as I unhappily drank the little cups of medicine James prescribed for me.

One in the morning, one at night. The liquid was thick and clear, and tasted faintly sweet with that familiar cough syrup tang. I hated taking this medicine, no matter how good it was for my ankle. It made me feel weak and tired after drinking, which I did not appreciate when trying to crutch around everywhere. I felt ridiculously drained all weekend long, lounging about in my house in sweats and a messy ponytail, flicking through the TV and catching up on the loads of assignments my teachers had decided I direly needed in my already hectic schedule.

Ah, that's the life.

And to make it worse, when I got to school on Monday, backpack dutifully slung over my shoulders and crutches in use, guess which two of my favorite people were making out by the front parking lot?

"Whyyyyy?" I groaned, crutching quickly past Nudge and Dylan. Nudge's eyes flew open and she hastily pushed off of Dylan's chest, but Dylan only lazily pressed another kiss on her nose before disentangling himself.

"Hi Max," Nudge squeaked, smoothing her hair down.

"Good morning," Dylan added cheerfully, smiling in greeting.

I only shook my head and moved on, wondering how many more times I was going to run into this couple publically shoving their tongues in each other's mouths. It was nauseating to see Nudge together with Dylan. Positively nauseating. She deserved so much better than him.

For example, _Danny Armstrong._

With that lovely start to my day, it was only possible for it to get better, right?

Luckily, my positive thinking held through for once in my short, pessimistic life, and I actually made it to Miss James' homeroom to find that Lissa was nowhere in sight. Finally, a blessing. I fell into my chair, setting the horrid crutches awkwardly to the side as I pulled my backpack off. "I hate Mondays," I muttered, sprawling over the desk and burying my face in my arms. When could I go back to sleep again?

"How attractive," A voice teased beside me. I didn't even spare Fang a glance, simply groaning in response as he settled into his chair. "I take it you still aren't in top physical condition?" he continued pleasantly, ignoring my grumbling.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I muttered, finally rolling to the side to glare at him out of one eye. "Hence the crutches? I hate your dad's medicine. It sucks. A lot."

Fang shrugged, yawning slightly as he glanced up at the board. "I'll inform him of your dazzling reviews," he replied. "Have you seen Iggy this morning?"

"Nah, I was too busy being joining him in blindness by witnessing Nudge and Dylan's PDA," I grumbled. "What about him?" I sighed as morning announcements crackled on. Luckily, Lissa was still absent, even though everyone else in class had already filed in. There was one good thing about my day, thank the lord.

Fang frowned a little. "He's acting weirdly," was his only, vague remark.

"How so?" I yawned, digging my face back into my arms. I was so tired… and my back was really sore. It had been aching ever since I started using the crutches, and it was really starting to get to me… Maybe this was karma for fibbing to Fang at the doctor's office and saying I was frowning because of back pain caused by my crutches.

Damn.

"He's avoiding your sister, for one," Fang informed me, poking at my shoulder. "Wake up Max, this is serious," he reprimanded. "Iggy was head over heels for Ella last week, and now he's acting like he doesn't want to see her ever again."

I straightened up, somewhat alarmed by this. I hadn't noticed anything off with Iggy and my sister since Ella's little spaz out during our Cripple Crew meeting at the soccer game on Thursday, but I had been more than a little preoccupied since then. Now that I thought about it, actually, Ella had been acting a little down in the dumps over the weekend. Was it because of Iggy? "What's up with that?" I asked Fang. "He suddenly doesn't like her anymore?"

"I don't know what happened," Fang confessed, his eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

"When did this really even start?" I asked, cocking my head to the side as I thought. "They had their date, and Ella was overjoyed afterwards, so I doubt anything went wrong then."

"Iggy was over his head in bliss," Fang agreed, a hint of a smirk sidling onto his face. "He wouldn't stop talking about it." He paused, the smirk instantly disappearing. "Until, now that is," Fang concluded.

"What happened after that that could have made him act like this?" I demanded. This was starting to seriously confuse me. "Did she do something to make him mad?"

"I don't know," Fang retorted, giving me a look. "That's why I was asking you."

"Well we need to get to the bottom of this," I decided firmly. "Who has first period with him that we can have talk to him?"

"Well, Gazzy does, but…" Fang hesitated, his brow furrowing again.

"But what?" I asked, somewhat dreading the answer. "Has he mortally injured himself again? Broke his knee? Fractured his leg? Got a concussion? Oh no, is he out for the season!?"

"No," Fang shot down all of my morbid suggestions with a single word. "He's just not in a very good mood either," he finished, somewhat anticlimactically in my opinion.

"Gazzy has been acting dreary for days," I moaned, my head slumping to rest back down on the desk. "Do we have _any _friends who aren't so dramatic?"

Fang cocked his head to the side contemplatively. "Iggy's avoiding Ella, Gazzy is PMSing, Nudge is dating Dylan, Terra is preoccupied because Gazzy's in a mood, and you're acting all weird because you're high off of meds," he concluded. "Nah, we're screwed."

"I'm not weird," I denied indignantly.

"You look like you're dead and you just used the word 'dreary' in serious conversation," Fang informed me matter of factly. "Weirdo."

I waved away his evidence. "What about you?" I demanded. "You don't get to be the sane one in our group."

"Oh no, I'm the one who's insane enough to want to put up with you," Fang teased, brushing his hand over mine. I smiled involuntarily at the gesture, my fingers curling to catch his.

"You seem to enjoy it enough," I retorted, grinning cheekily at him.

"Ella is paying me," Fang explained airily, nodding superiorly. "Ten bucks a week."

"Only ten? What a rip off," I mumbled, rolling my eyes. Fang snorted, but didn't comment. The announcements clicked off within a minute, and as the bell rang we both rose to head to science. "So Gazzy is out for asking Iggy what his problem is," I continued, going back to the immediate problem at hand. "Don't you have English with Iggy second period?"

Fang nodded. "Yeah, I'll try to talk to him again, but the last few attempts didn't go so well," he admitted. "He's just silent and moody."

"So he's impersonating you," I cracked. Fang just raised an eyebrow coolly at me, and I continued on without any acknowledgement of my hilarious wit. "We should probably figure out what's up with Gazzy as long as we're going to be playing therapist to everyone," I decided. "I'll talk to Iggy in history fifth period if you can't get anything out of him."

"And I'll talk to Gazzy third period," Fang added. "I have history with him."

"And if Gazzy won't say anything to you either I'll see what I can do in fourth period English," I finished. I grinned at Fang, suddenly satisfied with how well-organized we were being. "Hey, we're good at this," I remarked. "Maybe we should see if we can get paid for doing it."

Fang rolled his eyes. "You want to hire us out as mercenary therapists?" he asked skeptically.

"We could totally pull it off," I argued earnestly as we turned the corner to science. "Come on, it's a legitimate idea!"

"Yeah, you really are high off those meds," Fang muttered. He disappeared into Mr. Lundom's classroom before I could plead my case for my sanity, and I had no choice but to follow him inside. Obviously he didn't know a high caliber moneymaking idea when he heard one. Our plan with Iggy and Gazzy was bound to have them coughing up some information sooner or later.

* * *

Our master plan was promptly ruined as soon as I was supposed to put my role into action.

I stepped into fourth period English, revved and ready to confront Gazzy and demand to know why he was acting so moody. I had even procured some bribery items (parmesan goldfish- for some reason Gazzy adored them) and coerced Gazzy's usual desk mate, a freckly boy named Kevin, into switching seats with me for the day. Everything was going according to plan…

"Hey Gaz," I chirped cheerfully, grinning at him as he stood beside his desk.

Gazzy shot me a suspicious look. "Max? What are you doing in Kevin's seat?" he asked warily.

"Nothing. I just wanted to talk to my favorite forward buddy," I replied flippantly. "Are you gonna stand there all day?"

Gazzy stared at me for another few seconds, obviously wracking his mind for reasons why I would be doing this. He apparently came up blank, because he just shrugged and slung his backpack to the floor, slouching into the seat beside me. "Are those parmesan goldfish?" he asked, his blue eyes lighting up like a child's as he spotted my snack.

Perfect. "Why yes, they are," I confirmed, pretending to act surprised. "Want some?"

The bag was snatched instantly from my hand. Gazzy pulled it open and stuck his hand in instantly, shoveling a handful of fishies into his mouth. "You're not getting this back," Gazzy informed me thickly. "I've had an extremely stressful time lately, and I need goldfish."

Yes, yes! This was going swimmingly, all thanks to my little goldfish. Hehe. "What do you mean by stressful?" I asked innocently, flipping open my binder and looking away from him so as to seem casually unconcerned. Gazzy would spill more than he intended if he didn't think I was paying much attention, this I knew.

"Well, Dylan is kinda pissing me off," Gazzy admitted, sighing slightly as he stuffed another nine goldfish into his maw. "He's grossing me out with all of his PDA on Nudge. And he keeps trying to suck up to everyone, with his 'turquoise eyes' and 'sweet personality'," Gazzy quoted sarcastically. "Gag me."

Now this was going somewhere. I was _so_ bragging to Fang about my expertise in being a therapist. You could just call me Dr. Ride. "So Dylan's antics are the only thing bugging you?" I queried, flipping through my notes. "You seemed kind of off lately."

Gazzy opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated slightly. And with that hesitation came the huge disturbance in my excellent sleuthing of Gazzy's problems.

"Max, you've been called to the counselor's office," Ms. Niota informed me from the front of the room. My head snapped up from my carefully innocent studying of my essay notes, and I stared at her incredulously.

"What?" I asked, my mind whirling. I couldn't leave now! Gazzy was about to tell me what he was so upset about!

"Go to Mr. Reynolds' office," Ms. Niota repeated, looking at me skeptically. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, not at all ma'am," I murmured, internally groaning as I hauled myself out of my chair and onto my crutches. Richie had such horrible timing. I would need to have a serious talk with him about pulling me out of classes other than history. "Later, Gaz. We'll continue this conversation, right?"

Gazzy avoided my eyes, staring down at his desk and continuing to shovel goldfish into his mouth. "Yeah, whatever Max," he muttered.

Mission: failed.

"Max, come in," Richie greeted me when I finally made my way to his office. His head still bent diligently over his laptop, but when my crutches clicked on the floor as I started forward he looked up immediately. Richie's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What happened to your foot?" he asked, sounding concerned.

I crutched my way over to my chair, settling myself into its cushions before answering. "Sprained my ankle playing soccer," I replied. "Nothing serious."

"Okay then," Richie said hesitantly. He peered down at my wrapped ankle, obviously wondering if he should say anything further on my injury.

I decided to prompt him a little. After all, I was curious to know why he had called me out of English class. Usually he always took Iggy out of history, and had told me he would do the same for me. I wouldn't have been complaining of course— English wasn't exactly my forte, and MLA formatting was never exactly a scintillating topic in my opinion— if I had not been in the midst of an incredibly important mission to dig up all of Gazzy's secret reasons for his moodiness. "So why did you call me here? To talk about my ankle?" I asked, setting my backpack and crutches down on the floor beside me.

Richie immediately stopped looking at my ankle, instead lifting his gaze seriously to my face. Uh oh. "Max, the first day I met you, you told me you didn't have anger management problems and that you didn't talk to therapists after one talked to you about your dad leaving," Richie started, his brown eyes serious. I stiffened slightly, wondering where this could be headed. Nowhere good, obviously.

Richie continued, his eyes flicking between me and his computer screen. "But now I look up your file, and it turns out that those were both total lies." He clicked his mouse for emphasis, looking thoroughly perplexed. "Why?"

I fidgeted restlessly in my seat. Richie was cool, as far as guidance counselors went, but I wasn't exactly ready to share my entire past with him. I had already told Fang the story about Mike yesterday, and I wasn't exactly feeling ready to divulge any more secrets with anyone else right now. "I'm a compulsive liar?" I offered half-heartedly.

"Max."

"I don't like to reveal my whole life with total strangers," I replied carefully. Richie obviously was not going to be satisfied with silly answers. "So my apologies if I wasn't going to tell you about my childhood problems the moment I met you."

Richie nodded, accepting my words as the truth. And it was the truth. After all, why would I have told him about my violent tendencies from fifth grade with zero prompting in the midst of a discussion on Iggy's blindness?

"So would you like to tell me now?" Richie asked, locking my gaze in his.

"Not particularly," I answered truthfully, staring levelly back at him. "No use in picking at scabs, right?"

"These scabs need to be picked, though," Richie informed me firmly. "It appears to me that these issues were never fully resolved." He paused, a wry little half-smile tugging at his mouth. "Or if you're still going with the scab metaphor, they aren't healed over," he added.

"Trust me, I'm perfectly fine," I assured him. I stared the guidance counselor straight in the eye, willing him to believe me. Richie looked at me skeptically in return, and I scowled. "What? It's the truth!" I insisted. "It might not have been the truth yesterday, but it is now!"

"I'm sorry Max, but some of your acts recently have shown otherwise," Richie said seriously, leaning forward and resting his elbows on two of the few clear spots on his cluttered desk. "Those black moods you get into, running the track to the bone, hitting Lissa," he listed off. "There have been repeated incidents."

I frowned again, narrowing my eyes suspiciously at him. "How do you know about my moods and running?" I accused. That was weird. What did Richie do all day, stalk me?

He just smiled. "Because my window looks out onto the track," he explained, waving towards his window. I glanced over, and sure enough there was a wide window letting in sunlight directly across the room from his desk. It did show off a nice view of the track and athletic field, and I could very clearly see kids in their PE classes running laps.

Okay, so he had an alibi on that one. What about the moods?

"And about your little tiffs," Richie continued, as if reading my mind, "teachers gossip, you know. Ms. James was remarking on how you had stormed into homeroom on occasion with the most awful aura surrounding you, when usually you were pleasant enough."

"That's creepy," I informed him unabashedly. "Teachers gossiping about their students' moods?"

"We also discuss Teen Wolf and The Hunger Games," Richie replied airily.

I ignored his commentary. "So if I ever discover that I have a stalker, I'll know it was you, right?"

A muscle in Richie's cheek twitched suddenly, and I stared at him suspiciously. "Of course not Max," he replied, a beat too late. "I'm here exactly to prevent that from happening to you."

"I thought you were here to talk to me about my 'unresolved issues' that need to 'heal over'," I retorted, leaning back comfortably in my chair.

"That's only a cover story," he deadpanned. "And now that you've reminded me…" Richie grinned wickedly as I groaned. He tossed me a donut in sympathy, pulling one from the never ending stash beneath his desk. "I want to hear about what other therapists have talked to you about involving your father."

"Sorry Richie, no can do," I replied instantly, pulling up a falsely bright smile as I bit into my powdered donut. "I can tell you why I got in a fight with Lissa though. That's because she was being a bitch about my boyfriend. And about those moods I get, that's just some weird quirk that I've always had, some sort of genetic defect I guess. But you know what you could do for me? Figure out why Iggy is avoiding my sister."

Richie smiled suddenly, leaning forward across his desk. "Ah, I sense a negotiation!" he crowed. "I already know why Iggy is avoiding Ella!"

"You do? What is it?" I demanded incredulously, sitting bolt upright in my chair. Had Iggy vented to Richie about Ella? What did he know?

"Ah ah ah Max, I can't tell you," Richie tutted. "Confidentiality of all students." I groaned and slumped back into my chair at his annoying morals. "However…" Richie continued, his eyes amused as he watched me. "My tongue might slip if you happen to mention to me what I want to know… a little trade off, hmm?"

"You're dastardly, Reynolds," I muttered, scowling as I crossed my arms. I really needed to know what was up with Iggy, and for some reason I had a sinking feeling that Fang was not going to scrounge up any information from the blind boy himself. Richie might be my only chance. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Sweet victory," Richie gloated, smirking as he pulled his laptop closer to him, hands poised to type. "Now Max, I'm going to ask you only a few simple questions.

"How many different places have you lived in?"

"Eight different states, lots of different towns,"I said nonchalantly, swiping my hair out of my eyes.

"List them."

"Colorado, New Jersey, Massachusetts, Nebraska, Ohio, Florida, Nevada, and here," I reeled off, counting on my fingers. Yep, that was all of them. These were much easier questions than I expected. This was a simple trade for the information on Iggy's sudden avoidance of my sister.

"Who are your biological parents?"

I swallowed hard for a moment, frowning deeply at the thought of my dad. "Valencia Martinez and Jeb Batchelder," I bit out at last.

"Where were you born?"

"Colorado," I muttered, still stinging a bit from having to say _his _name out loud. "Why are you asking me all these dumb questions? Don't you have these answers on file somewhere?" I demanded.

Richie didn't answer, simply staring at his computer screen as he asked yet another question. "How many problems have you had with anger management, Max?"

"I don't have anger management problems," I replied stubbornly. If he wasn't going to answer my question, why should I answer his?

"Max, we both know that's a lie," Richie informed me, his eyes finally flicking up from the screen. "Tell me how many."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I repeated. "You must have the wrong information or someth-"

"I know what you did to that boy in fifth grade, Max," Richie informed me suddenly, his eyes serious. My words died in my throat, shocked at his bluntness. He didn't just stop there though. Richie kept going, full speed ahead. "And I know that there have been other cases like that with you as well. I just don't know how many, since only a few are recorded on your files, the main one being the case of Mike B-"

"Don't say his name!" I yelled, my hands clenching on the armrests of my chair. "I don't care about why Iggy's mad anymore! I'm not answering your questions." I took a deep breath, trying to focus my furiously pounding vision as I stood up. "I'm going back to class."

"Max, sit down," Richie ordered.

"Make me," I spat back. Why did I ever think he was cool? I did not like these questions. Not one bit. He was trying to command me to do what I didn't want to? Who did Richie Reynolds think he was?

"Are you aware that about 90% of the answers you gave to my questions are dead wrong, Max?"

I stopped, turning to glare at him. "What are you talking about?" I snarled.

Richie was unfazed, holding my angry gaze with a steady stare straight back. "You don't know all of your history, Max," he replied calmly. "You weren't born in Colorado, for one."

"And why would _you _know that?" I demanded. "I didn't know you until this year."

Richie didn't reply immediately. Instead, he sighed a world weary sigh and idly plucked a donut from the seemingly ever present box on his desk. "Do you know Max Baxter?" he asked instead, irritating me further with his irrelevance.

"Who the hell is Max Baxter?" I spat, scowling. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in the chair. Richie was not even remotely close to my good side at this moment. If he was wise he would tread carefully with his next reply.

"He goes here," Richie answered calmly. "Max knows who you are, so I assumed you knew him too. He's a soccer player too, but he's not on the Cromwell team. Tall, grey eyes, red hair-"

"Wait," I interrupted, my eyes widening on their own accord. "Max II?"

Richie raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "So you do know him?" Richie confirmed.

"Yeah," I agreed, my eyebrows furrowing again at the thought of the redheaded boy. "He was nice to me when I first got here, but then we had a falling-out. Why are you even bringing him up anyway?"

"I was asking you about Mike for a reason," Richie replied carefully, his eyes locked on mine. "Max Baxter - Max II, you called him- is Mike's foster brother."

_Bam. _

_Wait, what's that stuff again? That stuff I need to survive? Oh yeah, oxygen. Isn't that supposed to be in my lungs?_

Well, not anymore.

* * *

I don't remember much of what Richie tried to tell me before he finally gave up and sent me back to English class. In fact, I don't remember much of any of the remaining classes I had before lunch. Learning a mind blowing, lung crushing, completely unexpected piece of information can do that to a girl.

Max II was Mike's brother. _Mike's brother._ How the hell was I supposed to deal with that? I had almost killed his brother in the fifth grade! And now I had been treating him like dirt. How's that for compassion?

_Oh God oh God oh God oh God-_

The lunch bell rang at last, and I automatically stood up from my seat next to Dylan. Iggy had been called out of history to go to Richie's office again, so Ms. Hell had once more deemed it fitting to sit me next to Blondie while my true partner was absent. Apparently Dylan had been trying to talk to me or something the whole class period, but seeing as I was kinda busy with my mental breakdown I had never answered him. He seemed to be steaming slightly over that, considering his stormy expression and unusually grumpy aura. Whatever. He could go make out with Nudge now and pep himself up again. I had some serious issues to deal with right here.

It figures that right after I've dug my exceedingly painful past out of its well-earned grave is the time when Richie decides to drop this bomb on me. Memories of Mike and Jack, Darla and Omega, they were all newly fresh in my mind. The confusion, the fighting, the hurt, the betrayal, the blood-

If I didn't stop this soon I really was going to be going through a mental breakdown.

"Hey, Max," Fang said suddenly, materializing next to me. It was proof of my numbness that I hadn't even fully realized that my legs (well, actually my arms, since I was still on crutches) were carrying me automatically toward the cafeteria, or that I hadn't even reacted to Fang's special popping-out-of-nowhere trick. I simply kept walking, staring straight ahead as Fang fell into pace beside me. "So I was talking to Gazzy and I got nowhere, but I managed to get out of Iggy that he's been feeling awkward about Ella because of the whole age gap thing." Fang actually smiled a little, apparently proud of his accomplishment in prying Iggy's jaws open. All I could think was that if I had known Iggy was going to tell Fang his problems in the first place, I never would have had that horrible conversation with Richie. _Damn. _"So," Fang continued, oblivious to my thoughts, "we can take that information and work out a way to make him see-"

Fang broke off suddenly, and I glanced at him slightly, wondering what had caused him to stop talking. He wasn't looking at me anymore. Instead, he was glaring across the cafeteria, muscles tensed and face set in a hard mask. "That bastard," he growled. "Why does Nudge like him at all? I'm going to have to do something about this. He can't act like that while he's dating my friend."

I realized dimly that something significant must be happening on the other side of the room, but I couldn't bring myself to care too much. After all these weeks of trading insults and hate with Max II, I find out that I'm eternally indebted to his family for their not pressing charges and suing my mom for my attack on Mike all those years ago. They had simply taken their bloody, broken adopted child and allowed my mom to pack up and flee the state with me in tow. I had gone berserk on Mike, and they hadn't even bothered to visit and scold me for harming their foster son. And now… Mike was somehow Max's foster brother. How the hell did Mike's foster brother get all the way across the country and enrolled in the same school as me? What kind of cruel fate was that?

"Max?" Fang asked, apparently realizing that I wasn't joining in on his rant, and instead spacing out alarmingly.

"Mmm?" I murmured back, closing my eyes slightly as another wave of guilty horror washed over me. I felt like I was a separate person, watching my body drown from a distant shore.

Fang reached out and enclosed my shoulder in his hand, making me open my eyes and look blearily up at him. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, tugging me gently closer to him and making me crutch forward in order to stay balanced.

"I don't know," I found myself whispering back. Stepping forward, I tucked my chin down and dug my head into his shoulder. Fang let his hand slip off my shoulder and folded me carefully into his arms instead, holding me steady in the storm of hurt and confused guilt.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay."

And he just let it go, holding me against his chest in the middle of the cafeteria. I could feel his breath on my neck, and the rhythm of the warm air pressing against my skin helped to steady my breathing as I thanked every deity I could think of that Fang was mine.

* * *

When school let out that day, Fang didn't let me out of his sight. We both collected our stuff from our lockers, with me mentally thanking the deities once more that Lissa was absent today, and consequently our little locker corner was deserted. Once that task was over with, I was planning on walking with Fang out to the soccer field and watching the Lynxes practice. Even if I couldn't play, I really had nothing better to do and I could always learn something from just watching.

We had just made it to the front of the school when we were met with a sight that made me stop in my tracks.

Max II, stepping forward and draping his arms around a familiar blond girl as he gave her a greeting kiss. She giggled and smiled as he said something to her, fluttering her heavily mascaraed lashes.

"Is that the Barbie?" Fang asked incredulously, seeing where my line of sight was headed.

I nodded dumbly, unable to do anything but stare at the odd couple less than twenty feet in front of us. The Barbie and Max II were together? What were they doing, having a Let's-See-Who-Can-Injure-Max-The-Most club meeting? If they were, Barbie was winning. She had sprained my ankle, whereas Max II had only given me a black eye.

By now, Max II had caught sight of us, standing there frozen while students milled all around us. "Hey Maximum," he called out, purposely ignoring Fang. "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Frida."

Frida? Now why did that sound familiar?...

The Barbie smiled poisonously at me, her eyes flitting over my crutches and bandaged ankle. "Oh dear, I didn't hurt you that badly on Thursday, now did I?" she purred.

Anger suddenly sparked through me, instantly dissipating the fog of guilty despair that had plagued me since my chat with Richie. Who did this bitch think she was? "Oh not at all," I replied saccharinely. "This is all just for fun. You know, crutches are really an excellent upper body workout."

"Oh really?" Barbie/Frida asked, her immaculately plucked eyebrows rising. "I might have to try it sometime then." Sarcasm dripped from her honeyed voice.

"I'd be happy to supply you with a reason to get crutches," I offered.

"Now, girls," Max II cut in smoothly. "Stop with the veiled threats. Frida obviously didn't mean to sprain your ankle, Max. In fact, she wanted to apologize for the incident, so since her school had a holiday today she came right after our classes ended to see you."

"Max doesn't need an apology," Fang interrupted, stepping slightly in front of me and crossing his arms. I noticed Frida's attention switch instantly from me to Fang, and scowled as her sugary sweet expression instantly switched to something far more seductive and flirty. It wasn't even a _bad_ flirty face, like Lissa's- Frida was very skilled in the art of seduction, it appeared. I couldn't even gag obnoxiously as she crept minutely closer to Fang. Her actions were very stealthy, not obvious at all to Fang, but horribly obvious to his _girlfriend who was standing right next to him._

I fought the urge to slap Frida silly. _No more violence, no more violence, no more violence._

Meanwhile, Max II's face was darkening as Fang spoke. "No one asked your opinion, Fang," he retorted sharply. "It's not your place to decide if Frida gets to give an apology or if Max accepts it."

I snorted. "I don't need an apology," I confirmed, agreeing wholeheartedly with Fang. An apology from Frida? That would only make me hate her more, frankly. I just wanted her to get away from me (and _Fang)_ as soon as possible. Preferably taking Max II with her.

Oh God- Max II was Mike's foster brother. I was acting so awful right now- how could I do that to him, when I had harmed his brother so badly? My conscience slammed into my heart so hard that it ached, and I instantly fell silent. "I'm sorry, Max," I said quietly instead, turning to crutch away, "But I'm perfectly fine without your girlfriend's apology. Thank you for offering though."

A strange, half-satisfied, half-disappointed expression flitted briefly across Max II's face, but was quickly replaced with a sneer. "Whatever, Max," he scoffed. "I guess you don't believe in apologies, do you? You never did apologize to Mike, did you?"

My heart tore at the taunt, hurting even more because it was the truth. After our last, bloody meeting, I hadn't seen Mike again before moving away from Florida. There was no chance to apologize, and honestly, even if there had been, I would've had trouble taking advantage of it. "Bye Max, bye Frida," I mumbled instead, quickly turning away and moving as fast as the crutches could take me.

Max II's harsh, mocking laughter followed me as I fled.

"Max, Max! Wait up!" Fang jogged to catch up with me, his face furrowed in a frown as he glanced backwards at Frida and Max II. "What happened back there?"

I swallowed thickly, debating whether to tell Fang what Richie had told me. Should I?

"Max," Fang repeated softly. He touched my arm, making me stop in my tracks.

Of course I should tell him. I took a deep breath, then looked straight into his black eyes. "Max II is Mike Baxter's brother."

Confusion, recognition, dawning understanding.

"Oh," Fang said finally, staring at me with wide eyes.

"Yeah," I managed to choke out. "So I guess this-" I gestured to my sprained ankle, my healing black eye, "-is only retribution. I deserve anything Max II dishes out to me. I nearly killed his brother."

"Max-" Fang tried to interject.

"Why can't I get away from the past anywhere?" I continued, my voice strangled. "When will bad memories stop following me around?" Mike, Sam, Bridgit, even that one nasty school in Ohio- I couldn't shake off the awful things I had done and the cruel things that had happened to me and those around me.

"The past is what makes us who we are," Fang said gently, reaching out a hand to touch my cheek.

I jerked my head to the side, avoiding his fingers and his gaze. "Then," I said, my voice trembling, "I don't know if I really want to be Max Ride."

Someone's POV

"Is the operative making _any _progress in getting closer to her? I mean, she obviously still is infatuated with that boyfriend of hers," the boss pointed out, sounding annoyed.

I winced, fully aware of my connection to both 'her' and 'that boyfriend'. "The operative thought that approaching her through a relationship with her friend might be a smart move, but since it has proven unsuccessful, has been taking lengths to start getting out of the relationship."

"He needs to make progress _now."_

"I am aware, sir, but the operative is doing his best."

The boss sighed impatiently. Fingernails tapped in frustration, a sure sign of a thinning temper.

"What about the plan with the Baxter boy?" the boss asked, fingernails still tapping.

Maxwell stepped forward at this point, eager to share his information. "She is fully convinced that Mike was always a part of my family" he explained, his chest puffed up importantly. "And if we should bring him to meet her again, I'm sure that it will be a crushing blow to any confidence in herself, as well as intensely distracting her, sir."

The boss thought about it for a moment, the gears working in all of our heads as we tried to deduce whether this might be a smart move. "We will think on it, Maxwell," the boss finally decided. "An excellent, idea."

Maxwell beamed.

"And you, Doctor," the boss added, turning to me again. "Make sure your part in this is going according to plan. We don't want anything unfortunate to happen if you were to mess up your extremely important role in this, now would we?"

I thought of my family, and hardened my resolve. This was for the best. "Of course not, sir."

"Good. Now make sure that the other operative breaks it off with that other silly girl soon. It's a waste of time."

My jaw tightened at the boss' careless dismissal of the innocent girl's feelings, but I knew better than to think that her emotions would be considered in any way important. "Yes sir," I said simply.

I couldn't wait for my part in all of this to be over.

**SORRY SORRY SORRY TIMES A MILLION. Highschool SUCKS. I HAVEN'T GOTTEN MORE THAN EIGHT HOURS OF SLEEP IN LITERALLY MONTHSSSSS.**

**I've been wondering for awhile… has anyone noticed anything about my writing? Like for instance, I avoid using the word 'said' as much as possible, an effect of my third grade teacher drilling 'Said is DEAD' into my HEAD for a year. Also, I **_**absolutely despise and loathe**_** the word ****chuckle.**** I hate it so so so so much it's not even funny. I have never, not once, used the word chuckle in my writing. If I ever use chuckle when writing about a particular character, you can guarantee they will turn out to be evil. Just an FYI.**

**Chuckle…. UGH. It just looks and sounds so gross…**

**And for some reason it really bugs me when people say 'orbs' instead of 'eyes'. Idk why, really. XD**

**~TMI~**


	40. A Crapload of Realizations

**HAPPY MONDAY (NOT)! Hopefully this update can brighten some of your days. (:**

**You know what sucks? When you open your email and it says 'eleven new messages!' and you're like 'omg sweet I got a lot of reviews/alerts/favorites yayy!' and then open your inbox only to realize some author you subscribed to in seventh grade and no longer care about uploaded nine new chapters and you received alerts so in reality you only received one favorite on your PJO story and one favorite on your fictionpress story. Yeah, that sucks.**

**DEDICATED TO: coppercat100, for your lovely reviews! Lol, last time you reviewed you were only on ch10, so maybe you won't even get here for awhile to see your mention! (:****-sigh-**

The next few days passed in a whirl of annoyance, despair, and anxiety. I was still agonizing over Mike's connection to Max II. I was still stuck on my crutches, and managed to keep running into Max II almost everywhere I went, accompanied by none other than his Barbie girlfriend Frida. Gazzy was still moping about aimlessly. Nudge was still dating Dylan. And Iggy was still avoiding Ella, even though we ('we' being Fang, Nudge, Terra and I) now knew what was wrong and were desperately trying to convince him everything was okay. We had opted not to tell Ella the real reason for his moodiness, deciding that it would be better for Iggy to explain himself in person.

If he ever got over his little insecurities, that was.

See how stressful my life was? I could definitely use some sort of fancy Starbucks drink to unwind right now…

This week the Lynxes had no games, so thankfully I was spared the agony of watching them play any games I was physically incapable of joining at that moment. Wednesday was okay. Thursday, however, was not nearly as peaceful.

Fang and I still hadn't managed to crack Gazzy's secret of why he was being so down in the dumps, although we had tried many tactics. Gazzy welcomed any bribery gifts of Parmesan goldfish or chocolate, but wad simply enjoying our gifts without offering us any information in return. We had even tried getting Terra to attempt to flirt the answer out of him, a task she did not mind performing for us in the slightest. Terrs dressed up in the most attractive little outfit she possessed and cornered Gazzy upon leaving the locker rooms after soccer practice on Wednesday. To my understanding, I believe their conversation went something like:

Terra: -flipped her hair- Hey Gaz! What's up?

Gazzy: -smiled at Terra, glanced down hallway- Hi Terry. Have you seen Ford or Nudge?

Terra: -shrugged- Don't think so. I was wondering if you wanted to talk right now though.

Gazzy: -still looking down hallway- Yeah?

Terra: -nodded sympathetically, stepped closer and reached out to touch Gazzy's shoulder- Yeah. I noticed you were acting pretty down for the past few days, and I wanted you to know that you can tell me anything, Gazzy Richards.

And get this. She used her Doe Eyes on him. Beautiful, gorgeous big blue Doe Eyes complete with slow, innocent blinking of her perfectly mascaraed lashes. Those things were lethal; she could have you begging on your knees in front of her in a nanosecond. Terra could do Doe Eyes better than an actual deer!

And yet, what was Gazzy's reaction to a head-on collision with said Doe Eyes?

Gazzy: -distracted- Thanks, Terrs. Oh look, there's Ford! Catch you later!

And he jogged off to catch up with Ford, Lauri, and Nudge.

Unbelievable.

Understandably, Terra was crushed that she had so little effect on Gazzy. A large portion of time was spent afterward by Nudge, Ella and I comforting her with Ben & Jerry's and chick flicks. It was a very fattening and repetitive five hours that ended with us soccer players scrambling to finish our homework after Terra was finally placated. She had finished her own while we were at practice that afternoon, but we had no such luxury. I ended up staying awake until two AM that night finishing a nasty English essay and a useless, horribly time consuming history study guide. Along with the draining homework load, my back was aching from the stupid crutches and I was feeling sluggish and weak from drinking the stupid medicine.

High school sucked.

Medicine sucked more.

After Terra's failed attempt to flirt the answers out of Gazzy, we decided to admit defeat and let Gaz have his privacy for a little while. He obviously didn't want to share what was bothering him so much, so there wasn't very much that we could do to help him.

"You know, I'm the only one of us who hasn't asked Gazzy what's wrong yet," Nudge remarked abruptly at lunch on Thursday. It was only her, Iggy and I at the table so far, and we were waiting for the others to trickle in.

I paused mid bite of my bagel to think this over. It was true: Fang and I had asked at the beginning of Mission Make Gazzy Spill the Secrets, Iggy had slyly brought it up under the guise of discussing his own problems about Ella, Terrs had tried the flirting approach, and Ella had attempted to pry the answer out of him with frozen yogurt. All of us were completely ineffective. I shrugged. "I don't know if it would really make a difference at this point, Nudge," I replied honestly. "I mean, Terra couldn't even flirt it out of him. He barely paid any attention to her."

Iggy frowned, setting down his orange for a moment. "But Gazzy is your best guy friend, Nudge," he pointed out. "How could he have never mentioned anything about this to you?"

Nudge blushed dully, avoiding Iggy's sightless gaze. "Well…" she hedged, playing with her salad, "Ikindahaven'ttalkedtohimalotsinceDylanas kedmeout."

Iggy and I both stared at her.

"Can you repeat that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Her speed had been remarkable, even by her own standards.

Iggy was far more used to Nudge's chatter and blurted out squeals than I was though, and easily translated the Nudgenese into English. "That's not cool Nudge," he informed her disapprovingly. "Don't girls say some shit like chicks before dicks? You have put the boyfriend before your best friend. Unacceptable," Iggy proclaimed.

Nudge blushed even more, trying to glare at Iggy but apparently not having the heart to put out enough energy to make it effective. "Who are you to give me relationship advice, mister?" she demanded. "And besides, Gazzy isn't even a chick," she added weakly.

"Damn straight I'm not," Gazzy announced, plopping down right beside Nudge and making her shriek loudly in surprise. He grinned at her reaction, pulling her in a short hug against his side in greeting before letting go and starting on his lunch. "So why were you discussing my gender again?"

Nudge huffed, visibly aggreived. "None of your business, Mr. Moody Pants," she replied primly, crossing her legs and pointedly taking a bite of her sandwich as if to end the conversation.

"Oh come on," Gazzy wheedled, grinning and poking at Nudge's ribs with a baby carrot. "Just tell me."

"I would tell you if you talked to me about what you're so upset about," Nudge returned pointedly, brushing away his carrot and raising an eyebrow at him. Atta girl! That's a perfect example of how to turn the tables on a guy.

Immediately Gazzy's face shut down, all traces of humor instantly swallowed like pesto pizza in Iggy's hands. "Why do you all want to know so much?" he groaned, dropping his carrots and staring moodily at the tabletop. "It's not anything you guys can help me with. Especially not Nudge."

Nudge instantly scowled, taking it upon herself to punish Gazzy's annoying evasive tactics with hurling a slice of apple at his nose. "Why especially not me?" she demanded, looking annoyed.

Dylan chose this moment to squeeze into the space on the bench between Nudge and I. "Hello!" he chirped, grabbing Nudge's chin and turning her face towards him. Nudge flinched visibly as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, obviously surprised by his sneak attack. Dylan's free hand flung itself carelessly towards me, creepily almost landing on my thigh. Eww.

Gazzy shot a distasteful look at Dylan, immediately standing up and slinging his legs over the bench to leave. "That's why," he announced cryptically, grabbing his lunch from the table and walking away.

Dylan looked at Nudge quizzically. "What was that about?" he asked, turquoise eyes wide and innocent. I itched to smack the look off of his face. Idiot.

"I… uh, I'm not really sure," Nudge mumbled, turning around and craning her neck to stare after Gazzy. "Gaz is in a bit of a mood right now. I should probably go talk to him…" Nudge made a move to rise from the bench.

Dylan actually pouted. "But I haven't seen you all day," he whined. I actually shuddered in annoyance at his disgusting, cajoling tone.

"I need to go talk to Gazzy," Nudge repeated, ignoring her boyfriend. "Catch you guys later." And with that, she got up and headed for the cafeteria doors Gazzy had disappeared through.

Leaving her annoying boyfriend behind with me and Iggy.

How kind of her. Considerate, really.

"Well not that I don't cherish your company, but I'm gonna go find Fang," I announced, jumping off the bench onto my good foot and grabbing my Crutches of Hell.

"Heyyyyy," Iggy whined, pouting in my general direction. "That's not fair. Stay with me!"

Dylan frowned slightly, obviously noticing that Iggy had said 'me' and not 'us'. That's right sucker, face reality. Neither of us want you here.

"Nah," I drawled flippantly. "Strangely, I'd rather spend time with my boyfriend than with two whining losers."

With that grand exit line, I started crutching away.

"Wait!" Iggy yelped from behind me. I paused, grinning, and turned slightly tp watch as he scrambled to his feet and vaulted over the lunch table. His knee missed Dylan's neck by only inches, and I smirked at the alarmed expression on Nudge's boyfriend's face. "Take me with you," Iggy pleaded, bounding over to where I stood.

I pretended to think about it. "How 'bout instead you go talk to Ella?" I suggested saccharinely.

Iggy's face instantly blanked, a fleeting look of distress ghosting his expression before dissipating into nothing. "I- uh, I don't think so," Iggy muttered.

I crossed my arms and glared at him, hoping that he could somehow sightlessly sense my wrath and cower. "That's it. We're going to see Ella," I announced, grabbing Iggy's arm and starting to tow him out of the room.

"Wait!" Dylan called from his seat at the table. "Where are you going, Max?"

"Quebec," I replied instantly, tossing the word over my shoulder before letting all sight and sound of Dylan get swallowed up by the crowd of the cafeteria.

"Quebec, eh?" Iggy remarked, popping into existence just behind my shoulder. "Shall I arrange our fake passports for the trip?"

"Our? Who said I was taking you?" I retorted, maneuvering my way out of the cafeteria. The noise level instantly dimmed as we left the crowded room and headed through the hallways. "You aren't leaving this country until you've explained yourself to my sister."

An instant frown spread across Iggy's face. "Maaax," he whined. "You don't understand! I'm almost three years older than Ella! Three years!"

"You're in the same grade as her, and you aren't looking to take advantage of her," I retorted. "So I don't see what the problem is."

Iggy tried a different tactic. "You're her sister though! Shouldn't you be angry if your sister is dating an older guy?"

"I would be if he was an asshole who dated younger girls so he could take advantage of their innocence," I answered honestly. "But even though you're an asshole Iggy, I know you're too afraid of me to mess with my sister."

This only prompted him to turn abruptly and smash his head repeatedly into a nearby bank of lockers. "Whyyy?" Iggy groaned, rapping his forehead against the metal with resounding bangs. "Why do I have to deal with this?"

I, on the other hand, remained unperturbed. I simply raised a cool eyebrow at my deranged friend, wondering idly how many brain cells he was losing by the second. "Because you were dumb enough to ditch my beautiful wonderful sister for a stupid reason?" I suggested innocently.

"It's not stupid!" Iggy finally yelled, stopping with the head banging. I started at his sudden raised volume, aware of everyone in the hall turning to stare. Iggy, however, had no qualms about piquing the bystanders' interest. He glared at me (or more accurately, a little to the left of my head. Iggy was good, but not perfect) with a look that could wither plants. "Everyone's laughing at me and saying it's silly, but it matters to me! I don't want to risk hurting her!"

Silence. I stared wide-eyed at Iggy, floundering for something to say.

It was right about then when I realized that one of the staring bystanders was Ella.

Well, damn.

"Iggy?" I ventured slowly, worried that he was going to have another explosion. I hadn't realized he was so unstable about this issue of his. Stupid me— Iggy didn't get upset easily, and this was obviously upsetting him.

"What?" he snapped back, unaware of Ella standing and gawking as he ranted. "Being worried about a relationship with a girl almost three years younger is a legitimate excuse for rudeness, okay? I don't want her to get hurt, and I don't want to screw with my feelings either. So just leave me alone about it!"

I opened my mouth again, attempting to think of a nice, subtle way to tell him Ella was listening and finding none. "That's okay and everything, Iggy, but…" I paused, trying to think of something. "You know we aren't alone in this hallway, right?"

"So?" Iggy muttered, crossing his arms rebelliously. "Who gives a damn who hears me anymore?"

"Um, I think you should give a damn," I suggested carefully, my eyes flicking between him and my sister. Ella stood there silently, unmoving as she watched Iggy's actions.

Suddenly, his face tightened, turning a peculiar shade of grayish oatmeal. "Ella's standing here, isn't she?" he bit out in a toneless voice.

I didn't answer. I didn't really need to, seeing as Ella had already detached herself from the small, gawking crowd of people and rushed over to cling onto Iggy's torso. Her head buried itself in his shoulder, but I could still hear her soft words as she spoke into his collarbone. "I thought you hated me," she murmured.

Iggy's pale face only tightened further. He tried in vain to push Ella off of him, but it was obvious he was getting nowhere with that mission. "I don't hate you," he replied stiffly. "I just need space." Iggy tugged at the sleeve of Ella's shirt as if to emphasize his point. "Space that I'm obviously not getting."

I was a little annoyed by Iggy's rudeness, but before I could even open my mouth to say anything, Ella beat me to it. "You've had enough space to yourself from avoiding me since you found out how freaking old I am," Ella retorted. "You liked me perfectly well when you thought I was one measly year older, so why does it matter that I'm actually one measly year younger?"

Iggy set his jaw. "According to our real ages, I should be a sophomore and you should be an eighth grader," he informed her. "And I'm not comfortable with that."

"But we aren't a sophomore and an eighth grader," Ella insisted, her grip tightening around Iggy's body. "We're two freshmen who happen to be the oldest and youngest in the class. But we're still just freshmen. It's not that big of a gap."

"I'm almost sixteen, and you're thirteen," Iggy continued. However, he didn't sound quite as resolved as he had at the beginning of the argument, and his rigid posture was starting to sag.

"I'm almost fourteen, and you're fifteen," Ella countered immediately, copying his voice.

"You're impossible to reason with, that's what you are!" Iggy snapped finally.

"Only because you aren't being reasonable!" Ella retorted at once. "Come on Iggy, listen to me. Do you know how much it hurts that finally there's a guy I like who likes me back, and suddenly he finds out I'm a year younger and decides to avoid me." Ella blinked furiously, stepping back to tilt her chin up defiantly and glare at Iggy with suspiciously bright eyes. "Whenever we go to new schools, it's practically always the same routine. I make friends with the girls, and all the guys beeline straight for Max. No guy ever looks at me."

I felt my jaw drop in disbelief, my stomach growing cold with shock. Is that what Ella thought? What was she talking about?

Wait a second… what guys? I knew for a fact that Ells was always an instant hit with her age group, while I had more social trouble due to my unfortunate innate tendencies to be sarcastic and rude. Due to this, I didn't usually have many friends. So what did she mean that guys went for me? Like hell they did!

My sister wasn't done yet though. "I always feel inferior, even though I know Max isn't trying to do that to me." Ella glanced at me briefly, swiping the back of her hand over her eyes. "She's just amazing, and everyone knows it. And everyone also knows I'm just… not as amazing."

And it suddenly pieced itself together, snatches of idle conversation that had wedged themselves in my mind.

_"Do you think we'll make the team?" Ella asked suddenly, stopping in her tracks as she looked at me. I shrugged, continuing to walk. Ella frowned in reply, tightening her ponytail like she always did when she was agitated. I finally had to stop walking so she wouldn't fall too far behind, and turned around to face her. "Scratch that," Ella continued, her voice slightly sarcastic. "I know you'll make the team. Do you think I will, though? I mean, I've got a lot to live up to, with the amazing Maximum Ride as my older sister."_

_Ella looked approvingly at my flat stomach. "Good, now the shirt will look even better on you! It's great that you're so thin and lithe and muscled Max! I wish I looked like you..." she trailed off wistfully._

_"You think I'm pretty? But you're gorgeous, Max!"_

Even as far back as sixth grade…

_I walked down the hallway of our current school, flanked by my newest friends Gary and Nolan. They were chattering to me about a combination of soccer and hockey, and I grinned and fired back responses as quickly as I could. I was glad to have found a few fellow sports fanatics so quickly._

_Then we rounded a corner and managed to crash right into Ella and another petite blonde girl. Me, being the graceful person I was, went flying backwards on impact with my sister. I never hit the ground though, because Gary and Nolan had each managed to grab one of my arms and haul me upright again._

_Ella wasn't so lucky. Her small friend could only lessen her impact on the ground, not halt the fall completely. As soon as I saw my sister on the floor I started shaking off my friends' hands to go help her up. Ella scrambled to her feet on her own though, eyes locked on Nolan as her cheeks went red._

_Nolan didn't notice; he was looking at me in concern. "You okay Max?" he asked, blue eyes worried. "That was a nasty hit."_

_And before I could respond, I saw the hurt and disappointment crumple Ella's face. She turned quickly, pulling her friend along and disappearing almost as swiftly as they had come. When I asked her about it later, her only response was a falsely cheerful, "It was nice of Nolan to make sure you were okay. He's so great, isn't he? Of course he likes you, Max, you're amazing."_

How could I have missed it for so long?

I had never thought that Ella was insecure in any way. She was beautiful, she was a great athlete, and wherever she went she made instant friends. I had definite times when I was the one who was jealous of her for her social grace, among other things. Why hadn't I noticed that she was comparing herself to me, and coming out dissatisfied? My stomach tightened unpleasantly. My beautiful baby sister had self esteem issues because of me. Because of me.

A sour rope uncoiled in my torso, squeezing up my throat and seeming to choke me from the inside. Okay, that was a real sucker punch to the gut.

Other people had joked about me attracting all the guys before, but I'd never even thought of it seriously before. What guy in their right mind would think my personality was attractive (well, besides Fang, but I couldn't exactly count him as in his right mind)? Who did they think I was?

_"The one all the guys are drooling over. You have haters, Max, actual haters! Do you know why? Because you're so damn perfect!" Terra snapped._

They were only kidding… right? I was ridiculously far from perfect. It only took a look back at my violent history and a glance at my attitude today to answer any doubts. I wasn't perfect. No one was. So why was everyone trying to convince themselves that I was? Was I some sort of twisted scapegoat here?

Iggy stayed perfectly still through all of this, sightless eyes trained on Ella and a blank mask set on his face. As my sister started to wind down from her rant, her face tightened further and she had to sniff loudly to hold back tears. "So I get it if you're not into me anymore, I guess," Ella concluded softly, turning away from Iggy. "It's nothing new to me, honestly. I'll give you your space now Iggy, so… bye."

Before she could even take a step, Iggy had lunged forward and grabbed her upper arm. "No, wait!" he said quickly, noncommital mask shattering instantly as he spoke. "Ella…"

"I'm trying to give you the space you wanted five minutes ago," Ella replied pointedly, tugging at her arm. "I don't want you to be bugged by a little kid's presence, after all."

"I was wrong!" Iggy blurted out, sounding panicked all of a sudden. He let Ella peel his fingers off her arm, only to reattach them to her shoulders a second later. "Ella, it's been hell trying to ignore you. I didn't want to hurt you, but I thought- I thought-"

"What changed your mind so suddenly?" Ella asked coolly, attempting to swallow her tears. "My sob story about Max accidentally taking the limelight all the time because she's so inadvertently perfect? 'Cause if that's it, I don't need your pity."

Despite the circumstances, I couldn't help but feel proud of my little sister's strength. Atta girl!

But… I wasn't perfect. Almost a perfect antonym, really. Ells and I really needed to have a talk about setting her mind straight soon.

"No, it's because…" Iggy paused, then sagged visibly, as if his resolve had left him in a sudden burst.

"Because what?" Ella prompted impatiently, trying to rub her eyes with the back of her hand again while keeping up her strong front. "What could possibly have changed your ridiculously steadfast opin-"

"I've missed listening to your voice."

Silence.

"Oh."

"I missed you, Ella."

A small, choked noise escaped her throat.

"And I know I'm an utter loser, but you have to know that I was doing this for you. I didn't want you to feel forced into a relationship with me just because I'm older. I wanted you to be free to date guys your own age if you wanted to. I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable with the age gap. I wanted you to be hap-"

Iggy never got to finish his sentence, because my suddenly quivering sister had flung herself at him and stopped it mid-word with her mouth.

Iggy's lips stopped forming words, apparently too shocked to keep functioning properly. Instead, he leaned down and dropped his hands to rest on Ella's hips. A few catcalls sounded from bystanders, and I discreetly scanned the hall to make sure their little reunion wasn't about to get busted by any teachers. Luckily for the reunited couple, none were in sight. They were free to attack each other's faces for a little while longer.

Oh, eww. Was Iggy's hand in an inappropriate place, or was it my imagination that his fingers were creeping south? That's what I've always wanted to see: one of my best friends making out with my sister in a public hallway. Right. Definitely.

Why did I want them to get back together again?

I shook my head, turning on my heel and hurrying away from the scene. I seriously needed to set my priorities straight. What could get my mind off of the kissing duo?

Ah, nature!

I found myself outside, strolling along the school grounds in an attempt to find a suitable place to soothe my corneas of their recent assault. Nature was good, right? Flowers and deer and bunnies and crap, right? It would be worth the annoying strain of crutches on soft grass if I got the image of Ella and Iggy's reunion off my mind.

Of course, me being me, I found no bunnies. Only Max II sucking off Barbie girl's face as he pinned her against a tree.

"EWWW!" I yelled, unable to stop the reflex to sound my distress. The couple broke apart instantly, scrambling to find their disturber. When they spotted me, however, their reaction was extremely strange and frightening. Barbie/Frida grinned slowly, her smeared lipgloss sparkling on perfectly bow-shaped lips. "Well, who do we have here?" she purred.

Max I appeared to be barely restraining a dark scowl. "Max," he bit out coldly, "what a pleasant surprise."

"Not pleasant for me," I groaned, once more wishing my hands weren't full of crutches so I could smash my retinas out with a tree branch or something. "Why is it always me witnessing the PDA? It's always me!"

"Jealous?" Barbie/Frida asked sweetly, picking at a perfectly manicured powder blue nail.

"Of you sucking face with Max II? Never," I scoffed. The redhead in question scowled formiddably at my remark, but I paid him no mind. "Why are you even here, Barbie girl? Don't you have school?" I asked skeptically.

She yawned in boredom. "Playing hooky," was her nonchalant response. "No big deal. I wanted to see my boyfriend." Her hand crept not so innocently up the side of Max II's loose green t-shirt. His gray eyes flashed with something, probably lust for his bimbo of a girlfriend, and a hint of a smirk sidled up his face.

Oh God, gray eyes. They were just like Mike's. A hint sly wit, a touch wicked, and a whole lot of masked feelings. All in the face of a boy who had hurt me beyond belief, who had dug into me and made me hurt my own mind and soul with guilt and grief.

Okay, okay, that was enough. I just shook my head at the two, turning to flee before I became too overwhelmed with thoughts of Mike. "I'd wonder if someone was paying you two to date, but it makes no sense why they would, so it seems you two really are attracted to each other," I mused aloud, trying to keep my voice from wobbling at the memories of fifth grade bombarding my head. "So I'll be leaving you now. Buh bye!"

"Are those crutches giving you trouble, Max?" Max II asked suddenly, sounding smug. "I told you before that you'd need luck to come out against Frida unscathed, but I guess you didn't listen. And look where you are now."

What was that supposed to mean? "I'll pretend your little spiel there made sense," I remarked, crutching away towards the school once more. Jeez, way to be cryptic. When did he tell me I needed luck against Frida?

So much for nature.

Even though it was still fifteen minutes before class started when I slid into my seat in art, Fang was already waiting for me. Nobody else was in the room except for Ms. Rykitel deep in the art supply closet, our classmates probably still off enjoying their lunch still. Fang doodled absentmindedly on the corner of his notebook, a small frown disrupting his stolid mask. "Hey," I greeted him quietly, falling into the seat beside him.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, his head jerking up. The pencil fell from his fingers, doodling forgotten.

Damn. He knew me too well.

"Nothing," I tried to say, shrugging as nonchalantly as I could manage. "Why do you think something's wrong?"

"You're really pale and when you walked in you didn't make a single complaint about your 'stupid things'," Fang replied, gesturing to the crutches leaning in a quietly evil aura against the desk.

"Well…" I hedged, mentally cursing his perceptiveness. I hadn't exactly wanted an interrogation about my horrible lunch. A sigh crept past my lips as I realized there was no way around giving him an explanation. "Terrs is depressed because she thinks Gazzy doesn't like her, Gazzy was being cryptic, Dylan was really annoying, I discovered Ella has self esteem issues because of me, and I walked in on some serious PDA. But at least Ella and Iggy made up." It all escaped my mouth in a torrent that would've made Nudge proud.

Fang just stared at me. For a moment I thought he was going to ask me to repeat myself, but his only question was, "What PDA was this?"

I snorted sardonically. "A bit of Ella and Iggy and quite a bit of Max II and Frida."

"Frida?" Fang echoed, furrowing his eyebrows. "The Barbie? Isn't she supposed to be-"

"In school, yeah," I finished, scowling. "But apparently she has no qualms about cutting class to come make out with her boyfriend."

"Classy," was his only comment. Fang fell silent for a moment, then said, "Ells and Iggy are back together then?"

"Iggy has been properly convinced the age gap is fine," I confirmed, smiling faintly.

"Good."

"Yeah." I propped my elbows on the desk and leaned forward, resting my chin in my hands.

"So why are you so shaken up, Max?"

I looked sharply at Fang. He shrugged, black eyes locked on mine. "Those aren't good enough reasons to upset you," was his simple explanation. "You're too strong."

Ironically, that was enough for my walls to crash completely, and I had to bury my head abruptly in my arms to hide my crumpling face from view. Tears bit at my eyes, and I had to choke back a rattling sob.

A hand slipped around the far edge of my torso, making me feel about as substantial as a rag doll as it easily pulled me closer to Fang. He fitted his other forearm under my knees and gently pulled me onto his lap even as I continued to hide my face in my arms. "Hey," he murmured, letting me press my head into his chest and slowly stroking his fingers down my back. "There's no reason to be ashamed of dropping your mask in front of me. You don't have to hide anything, Max."

This only made the tears burning behind my eyes come flooding out by the dozens. Why was I so freaking emotional all the time now? I blamed the medicene, frankly. "My baby sister, Fang," I choked out at last, "compares herself to me, and isn't satisfied. And I never noticed she was beating herself up for not being 'as amazing as Max'. What kind of a sister am I?"

"A sister that cares so much about her sibling that it makes her cry when she hears that the sibling is upset," Fang murmured soothingly. His arms around me tightened, and I buried my head deeper into his chest. "A sister who would never hurt her sibling on purpose. Ever."

"But I did hurt her," I murmured into the front of his shirt, clenching the dark fabric in one fist.

"Not purposely," Fang reminded me. His arms tightened around my back, pressing me close to his body and tucking my head under his chin. "You would never do anything like that to her on purpose Max. Ella knows that."

It was quiet for a moment. "I'm not perfect," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. Hot tears still managed to slip past my eyelids though, leaking onto Fang's shirt. "I'm really not, Fang."

"I know," Fang replied softly, his fingers tracing a circle on the center of my back. "You aren't, and you don't try to be. You're just Max, the girl I love."

"Why are you so perfect?" I moaned, shaking my head in helpless confusion. Fang always knew just what to say to fill my insides with warmth.

"Well, I am a freaking amazing forward," Fang remarked slyly, his fingertips pressing gently into the side of my torso. "And I am devilishly handsome, with heavenly dress sense, dazzling wit, and-"

"Never mind, I take it back," I interrupted, grinning slightly. I could already feel the tears melting off my cheeks. Fang truly always knew how to cheer me up.

A rough-skinned hand cupped the side of my head and nudged my face up to look at him. "If it makes you feel better, I don't think you're perfect at all," Fang murmured. He pressed his lips to mine for approximately six sweet seconds before slowly pulling apart. Fang caught a tear sliding off my cheek on his fingertip, brushing it away and running his hand comfortingly down my shoulder. "And that's what I like about you."

The warning bell for the end of lunch rang, breaking the stillness. Without a word I slid off of Fang's lap and back into my own chair, wiping my wet cheeks off on my sleeves.

And the strange thing was, Fang thinking I wasn't perfect did make me feel better. So much better, honestly. There was no pressure from Fang, no pressure to measure up to his standards of perfection. I could be myself.

"Your shirt is wet with my eye persperation," I pointed out, gesturing to Fang's crumpled, damp shirtfront.

"Hey!" Fang whined playfully, his eyes still soft as he surveyed my face. "I like this shirt!"

"Just be glad I don't wear mascara," I retorted, managing a watery smile. "That stuff is killer to get out of cloth."

"Hey Max?"

"Yeah?"

The first student trickled in.

"You'll be fine. You just need to talk to Ella."

A second girl walked through the door, accompanied by her friend. They snagged a desk in the front of the room, still chatting.

"Thanks Fang," I murmured, smiling slightly as his hand caught mine under the desk. This meant that I was now forced to draw left handed, but you know what? That was okay with me.

Dylan walked in with an obnoxiously giggling short blonde girl, the latter of whom was clinging unabashedly to the former's arm. I scowled instantly, my eyes latched to the girl. "Now what does he think he's doing?" I growled, glaring at Boy Wonder.

Fang followed my gaze to Dylan, and an immediate frown dragged the corners of his mouth down. "Why doesn't he realize that having a girlfriend means he can't flirt with other girls?" he muttered. "The bastard's just lucky Nudge hasn't witnessed it yet."

"Girls? As in plural? Yet?" I probed, confused by the resigned look on Fang's face. "What are you talking about?"

"What I'm talking about is that I've seen Dylan with four girls other than Nudge this week, and he was being extremely friendly. I saw him chatting up a senior in the cafeteria at lunch yesterday, but then I got distracted by your little breakdown," Fang replied, his expression stormy. "My big brother instincts are starting to kick in. And when I say kick, I mean Dylan's ass."

"Nudge doesn't know anything?" I demanded, anger building up in my stomach.

Fang shook his head tightly. "They're all upperclassman girls," he explained.

I started to rise from my chair. "That's it. I'm gonna kick his ass," I announced, heading for the desk Dylan had deposited himself and the clingy girl in.

A hand snagged the belt loops of my jeans, tugging me backwards. "Not so fast," Fang ordered. "You don't need another referral to the office for fighting. Your mom has already grounded you for long enough."

I groaned. "Screw you and your damn logic," I moaned, sinking back into my chair.

Fang ignored my comment. "Nudge needs to hear about this and decide for herself what she wants to do," Fang told me, looking serious. His lip curled slightly, and he added, "Even though I'd like nothing better than to sock him in the face a few hundred times."

"I second the motion," I muttered. "I hope we're working with clay today."

"You hate clay," Fang pointed out.

"But I can pound out my frustration on it," I replied smoothly, a smile creeping onto my face at the very thought.

Fang sighed dramatically. "Why did I have to pick the violent girl?" he mused aloud to himself.

I grinned at him winningly. "It must be 'cause I'm so pretty," I informed him gleefully.

Fang snorted derisively. "Nah, that can't be it," he said decisively.

"Hey!"

I was sitting on a bench at the side of the soccer field, crutches stacked at my side and geometry textbook in hand. I was stewing over a problem that I couldn't quite focus on because I was distracted by the play on the field by my able-bodied team mates. My eyes involuntarily tracked the movements of the ball, my feet twitching and my legs jerking every now and then when someone missed a kick that I knew I could've taken easily. I had forgotten how frustrating being injured really was.

The Lynxes were playing a half-field scrimmage at the end of the practice, and Anne had positioned my fellow Cripple Crewers (Nudge and Ella) behind each of the goals to chase the ball if any shots went awry. Lauri and Ford were obviously above chasing shots past their own two posts. Once it was away from the net, the two goalie divas were no longer concerned with the ball.

I was forbidden from helping out in any way during practice, seeing as one foot was occupied with walking, the other was injured, and both of my hands were full of crutches. I was useless, and condemned to sitting on the sideline and attempting to finish my homework while my team mates played. It was torturous, and I bitterly cursed Frida for injuring me so. I was stuck on this extremely cold bench doing extremely annoying math homework instead of running out on the field where I belonged.

Gazzy scored another goal on Ford, making Nudge yelp as the ball hit the corner of the net right beside where she was standing. A hint of a smirk flitted on Gazzy's face as Nudge pressed her good hand over her mouth in embarrassment at her little shriek. "Gazzy Richards!" she shrilled, sending a glare at the tall blonde boy in question. "You did that on purpose!"

"Me?" Gazzy asked, pretending to be incredulous. "Why would I ever do something like that to you, Nudge darling?"

Nudge's cheeks flushed, and she could only scowl at him as she bent to retrieve the ball from where it had slipped through a gap in the net. Even I could hear the quiet, "Asshole," she muttered as she threw the ball back onto the field. Gazzy grinned and half-turned to mockingly salute back at Nudge as he jogged back to the midline. Anne pretended not to notice, a small amused smile on her face.

Practice ended with everyone lining up to shoot on goal, Ford and Lauri switching off as keeper every other shot. My resentment at not being able to get involved in the practice in any way multiplied tenfold when I saw that Anne was even letting my fellow Cripple Crewers shoot. My jaw dropped in righteous indignation, and I immediately voiced my displeasure. "Anne! Nudge and Ella get to take shots?" I whined loudly from the sideline. "Why can't I take a shot?"

My team giggled irritatingly as Anne turned to address my concerns. "Because, Max," my coach started patiently, adopting the air of a preschool teacher dealing with a tiresome toddler, "Ella and Nudge have wrist injuries, and their legs are still intact. You, however, have a sprained ankle and are on crutches. This inhibits you from taking any shots." Anne raised an eyebrow at me knowingly, as if daring me to argue with her logic.

So obviously I did. "I can put all my weight on my crutches and then shoot with my left foot so my bad ankle is still off the ground!" I offered, sending her a winning smile.

Anne didn't even bother to respond to my perfectly reasonable suggestion. She just turned back to the line and told them to carry on with the shooting practice.

So loving. So thoughtful. So kind to her injured players.

I watched moodily as my team mates either sank their shots, kicked them wide or high, or sent the ball crashing into Lauri's neon gloves or Ford's grey ones. Every time one of the goalies saved a shot, they would turn and smirk at the other in victory, as if they had some private contest going. Lauri and Ford were extremely competitive. They probably did have a private contest going on. I wondered vaguely what the prize was.

My suspicions were confirmed and question answered when, after saving the last shot of Juliann's, Lauri threw her hands up triumphantly and smirked at Ford. "I win!" she crowed, pointing at her fellow goalie. "Pay up, mister!"

Ford rolled his eyes, walking towards Lauri and then turning his back on her and bending his knees so he was crouching slightly. "For the record, you only won because I had to keep for all of Gazzy's and Juliann's shots," he stated.

"Oh please," Lauri snorted dismissively. "I had to take all three of Fang's and two of Rosie's. That's just as bad, so stop whining." Then with great ceremony, she hopped onto Ford's back, curling her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Ford sighed in resignation, hooking his arms under her knees to support some of her weight.

"We had a bet to who could stop more shots," Ford explained to no one in particular, noticing the rest of the team's quizzical glances. I smirked to myself, proud that I had guessed correctly. "Lauri's prize was a piggy back ride back to the locker rooms."

Anne just rolled her eyes. "You crazy kids," she sighed affectionately. "Well, since we don't want to have to make Ford run Death Defiers with Lauri clinging to his back, I think I'll let you guys off of running today."

There was an instant chorus of enthusiastic cheering. "Thank you Lauri!" Rosanna yelled, hugging her friend awkwardly as she clung to Ford's back. "I am eternally in your debt!"

Lauri just laughed, clinging to Ford's neck and burrowing her chin into his shoulder. A faint smile crept onto Ford's face, lighting up his dark eyes.

I stood up, shoving my geometry crap into my backpack and slinging it over my shoulders as my team mates headed over towards me to grab their soccer bags. With some difficulty, Ford managed to strip his keeper gloves while keeping Lauri balanced on his back, tossing them in his bag and then bending to pick up both his own and Lauri's. The Lynxes slowly gravitated towards the lockers, me chatting with Juliann and Liz at the back of the group as we walked over. I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings, and was surprised when suddenly everyone stopped walking and started hooting and catcalling instead. I craned my neck to get a better look, and a startled gasp/squeak/shriek/squeal escaped my lips as I caught a glimpse of Ford with Lauri no longer on his back, but cradled in his arms, and kissing her straight on the mouth. Lauri's hands, still encased in her keeper gloves, were knotted behind his neck, and her cleats poked out into open air as she lay bridal style in Ford's arms.

"Well," Liz said, breaking me out of my fascinated staring. "I was not expecting that."

"Why are there so many romances going on among my players?" Anne groaned, walking by with a resigned look on her face. "All of you seem to be interested in your team mates! No more inter-team relationships, please!"

I saw Danny cast a wistful look towards Nudge. She didn't notice, too absorbed in Ford pulling back and gently setting Lauri on her feet before grabbing her gloved hand and swinging it between them.

Gazzy brushed by me, his previously content expression suddenly replaced by the brooding one that had haunted his face for the past week. "It seems like everyone's coupling it up now," he muttered under his breath, blue eyes hard. "Wish me luck Max, I'm going to need it against all this competition." He glanced toward Danny, who was still sneaking peeks at Nudge.

Then it hit me, almost making the air physically rush out of my lungs.

_As I started to move away again, I could hear Max II call out, "Good luck in your game today, Max! You're going to need it against Frida!"_

_As I forged away, I couldn't help but wonder a bit at Max II's strange farewell. Who the hell was Frida?_

Now I knew.

Max II was dating Frida. Max II hated me now. Frida sprained my ankle. It couldn't be that… Frida hurt me on purpose?

Did Max II have some sort of vendetta against me? Yes, yes he did. Now my only question was… did he want me to get hurt? Badly hurt?

A chill rushed down my spine.

"Hey Max," Juliann said quietly, nudging my side as she noticed the frozen expression on my face. "Are you okay?"

_Hell no._

**Aha… review please? (: can anyone guess what Gazzy is so broody about?**

**I made my high school soccer team! YAY! And I've gotten more than one review telling me that School Days inspired people to try out for their own teams, so that really means a lot to me. I'm proud of you all! =D**

**~TMI~**


	41. My Little Ponies and Back Pain

**I HAVE AN EXCELLENT EXCUSE THIS TIME. I have a concussion that's messing with my ability to think straight, and made me unable to look at glowy computer screens for a long time. This chapter may not be up to my usual standards and took a lot of effort to write. It may seem filler and it's shorter than usual, but I needed this to happen in order for some plot stuff to happen. I'm sorry in advance… my head is killing me. ): soccer is a contact sport, and I just met one of its dangers.**

**Dedicated to: ****Awesomegoat****! You have no idea how incredibly honored I was by your review. It truly means a lot to me to hear that. Thank you! =D Also to ****AwkweirdIdeasLeadToThis****, I really appreciate what you did. Thank you. (:**

It was Saturday night, my last day that I would be confined to crutches for. In celebration, my mom had lifted my remaining period of grounding. I was free to do whatever I wished that night, so long as I didn't get into any more fights for the rest of my life. I could do anything now, within reason.

So I decided to spend that time babysitting Angel again with Nudge and Fang. Ariel and George Richards were away at a vineyard for the weekend celebrating their sixteenth anniversary, so instead of leaving Angel's life teetering in Gazzy's easily distractible hands, they employed us three to come make sure their daughter survived the weekend. Ria Rianild (a nickname that I still found to be exceedingly adorable for Fang's little sister) was coming over after dinner, and Angel was anxiously awaiting her arrival. In the meantime, she dealt with us incompeteny older kids as her playmates.

Gazzy was currently somewhere upstairs, and every now and then a slight booming noise emitted from the direction of his room. I was more than slightly alarmed, but neither Fang or Nudge seemed to think it was a big deal. Angel took it all in stride as well, and I realized that explosions must be common occurrences at the Richards household.

Sometimes I worried about Gazzy.

"I want to play Ponies!" Angel declared, yanking a plastic box off of a shelf.

"Okay!" Nudge agreed enthusiastically, plopping down on the family room rug. Fang and I followed suit, sprawling out in a circle around the box of ponies. There were seven in the box: two unicorns and five ponies, all garishly colored with sparkling hair and pictures stamped on their asses.

My Little Ponies. Hmm.

Angel proceeded to divvy out the ponies in an extremely solemn procedure.

"My name is Belle, but you can call me Majessa Dandelion for short," Angel announced, clip-clipping her brightly colored My Little Pony around in a circle. I stifled a smile, letting Nudge be the one who cooed in adoration. "Nudge is Rainbow Butterfly, and Max is Starla Goldine, and Fang is Minty Milkshake!" Angel shoved the respective ponies into each of our hands.

I inspected Starla Goldine carefully, this being the first time I'd ever held a My Little Pony. It was a white unicorn, with huge purple eyes that slightly alarmed me and a purple and pink streaked mane and tail. I wondered vaguely where the inspiration had come from to paint a sparkly shooting star on its rear end.

"Minty Milkshake?" I snickered, nudging Fang. My lovely boyfriend rolled his eyes at me, gazing dubiously at the pony in his hand. It was pale green, with a white mane and tail and a trio of candies parading across its ass.

How… nice.

"Look, Max! Majessa Dandelion is Starla Goldine and Minty Milkshake's daughter!" Angel squealed, grabbing my hand and Fang's and smashing them together. Our knuckles collided with a painful smack, and the ponies inside them mashed heads. Angel was a strong little blighter.

"Even your respective My Little Ponies are in love," Nudge muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, shut up," I retorted. "You're just lucky Gazzy isn't here to play ponies with us, or Rainbow Butterfly would be having babies with him right now." I pointed at her pink and orange pony, then jerked my head towards the last few ponies in the box.

"Oh joy," Nudge groaned. "Nah, I'll leave that job to Terry dearest."

"But Gazzy loves Nudge," Angel interjected, looking puzzled. you've you love Gazzy, Nudge?"

Nudge patted Angel's small shoulder reassuringly. "Of course I love your brother, Ange," she replied. "We all do."

"But Max loves Fang, not Gazzy," Angel pointed out, unembarrassed by her bluntness. I could feel heat rise to my cheeks, and Fang smirked at me.

"That's different," Nudge explained patiently, setting down Rainbow Butterfly for a moment. "Max loves Gazzy as a friend. We all do."

Angel looked skeptically at Nudge for a moment. "You love him as a friend?" she clarified, waving her pony suspiciously about.

Nudge nodded, looking thoughtful. "Best friends," she agreed.

"Good to know," Gazzy drawled from the doorway, making us all jump. Even Fang flinched a little, and nothing usually surprised him. Gazzy was in ninja mode. He strolled into the room, plopping onto the couch in front of us and settling in. "So I don't have to worry about marriage proposals from any of you three?" Gazzy continued, smirking at us.

"You might from Fang," I informed him seriously.

"But Minty Milkshake can't cheat on Starla Goldine! They have a daughter!" Gazzy gasped dramatically. "Imagine the emotional scarring that would leave on Majessa Dandelion!"

"I don't know whether I'm more worried that you remember all of their names perfectly or that you seemed serious right there," Nudge remarked, grinning at him.

"Of course I'm serious, Nudge," Gazzy replied, staring at her with a solemn look on his face. He rolled off the couch and plopped himself down next to her, grabbing an extra pony from the box. "Now you see, Rainbow Butterfly has been having a secret fling with another pony behind Star Twinkle Astronaut's back." Gazzy gestured to the blue and white pony in his hand, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Gazzy's pony is named Star Twinkle Astronaut?" I snickered.

"It's better than Starla Goldine," Gazzy retorted.

"How exactly is Star Twinkle Astronaut a better name than Starla Goldine?" I asked Fang. He only shrugged, still eyeing Minty Milkshake as if it were about to explode in sparkly pony splatters.

"Shush Max," Gazzy reprimanded, flinging a hand up in the sign for 'stop' in case I didn't know what shush meant. "I'm explaining the facts of Ponytopia to Nudge. Could you be a little more considerate please?"

Fang snorted, but Angel seemed to be immensely entertained by her brother's story, so we let Gazzy continue for the sake of her huge, shining eyes.

The things I put myself through for that child.

"So while Starla Goldine and Minty Milkshake are away at work-" Gazzy began.

Angel interrupted, mouth open in a wide, wondering smile. "Where do they work, Gazzy?" she asked excitedly.

"At the Pony Salon taking care of other ponies' manes and tails for them," Gazzy answered, twirling Star Twinkle Astronaut's sparkly blue tail around his finger. "While they're doing that, Star Twinkle Astronaut babysits Majessa Dandelion for them."

"How kind of him," Fang murmured.

"Shh!" Angel reprimanded, sending an adorable glare in Fang's direction before turning to hang on to Gazzy's every word. "And then what, Gaz?"

Gazzy smirks, ruffling Angel's hair and then continuing his elaborate plot line. "Well, Star Twinkle Astronaut is such a loving, caring pony that he always takes Majessa Dandelion to the pony park. While they're having fun on the pony playground, Star Twinkle Astronaut's wife Rainbow Butterfly is off at work." Gazzy paused, lowering his voice dramatically as he added, "Or so she says."

"How dare you accuse my pony of adultery!" Nudge gasped, looking exaggeratedly insulted. "I'm sure that Rainbow Butterfly would never be unfaithful to Star Twinkle Astronaut!"

"Ah ah ah." Gazzy wagged his finger knowingly at Nudge, narrowing his eyes. "Don't try to trick him. This pony is smart. He knows that Rainbow Butterfly is secretly dating Dynamite Sprinkles!"

"That sounds like an unhealthy combination," Fang remarked.

I snorted in agreement, but Gazzy didn't skip a beat before agreeing. "I know! I don't know why Rainbow Butterfly prefers him over Star Twinkle Astronaut!" Gazzy muttered. He set Star Twinkle Astronaut down and dug Dynamite Sprinkles out from the box, an orange and yellow pony with a cupcake on its butt. "But he has successfully seduced Rainbow Butterfly, and now in an attempt to cheer up the depressed Star Twinkle Astronaut, Starla Goldine and her friends are trying to set him up with another pony." Gazzy paused, his expression visibly darkened. He was really getting into the whole plotline of this imaginary pony village. "Her name is Pebble Princess." Gazzy tugged the last purple pony from the box to display the woman in question to us.

"His friends feel bad his wife is cheating on him, so they want to help him cheat on her?" I clarified dubiously. "That sounds pretty sketchy."

"They don't know how much Star Twinkle Astronaut loves Rainbow Butterfly," Gazzy replied seriously, his eyes strangely wistful. "They think that a relationship with a nice pony like Pebble Princess will help him feel better."

"Are you sure this is rated G?" Nudge asked skeptically, glancing at Angel. The youngster was still gazing at her brother with rapt adoration, completely enthralled in the tale of ponies he was spinning for her. Ange apparently didn't deem anything inappropriate in Gazzy's story.

"Reality isn't always rated G, Nudge," Gazzy replied cryptically. He dropped the ponies he was holding next to Star Twinkle Astronaut and sprang effortlessly to his feet with his usual perfect athleticism. "Personally, I think it's very rude of Rainbow Butterfly to disregard Star Twinkle Astronaut's feelings like that." And with that grand exit line, Gazzy walked away and disappeared down the hall. In a moment we could hear his footsteps on the stairs, and then only silence. He had escaped back up to his room.

We sat there for a moment, soaking in the events of the past few minutes. "Gazzy's a good storyteller!" Angel announced, smiling fondly at her ponies. "Poor Star Twinkle Astronaut is in love with Rainbow Butterfly and she doesn't even notice him!"

"That was a surprisingly detailed plot for Gazzy to pull out of nowhere," I commented, studying the ponies scattered on the carpet. "It's like he's been planning this out."

"Gazzy spends too much time sulking nowadays. It wouldn't surprise me if he spent his time thinking up plots for My Little Pony villages," Fang sighed.

Nudge sat there quietly for a moment, then slowly stood up. She smiled, but it didn't look very genuine. "I just remembered I have to ask Gazzy about homework for tech," she announced as we stared at her questioningly. "I'll be back in a sec." Dropping Rainbow Butterfly, Nudge stood up and headed down the hall Gazzy had fled through before Fang or I could say a word. Gazzy and Nudge were in the same class, so it made sense to ask him for the homework. But why now?

"I'm hungry," Angel declared, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Can we eat now?"

"No problem, kiddo," Fang agrees instantly, the previously thoughtful look on his face dissipating instantly. "Chicken nuggets and French fries sound good?"

Angel cheered in response, bounding up and racing for the kitchen. I laughed at her enthusiasm, and Fang half-smiled before following her. I stayed behind for a few minutes extra, picking up the My Little Ponies and storing them back in the box. I paused for a moment as I looked between Rainbow Butterfly and Star Twinkle Astronaut. The ponies were perfectly harmless and innocent, but I had a strange feeling I was missing something.

A text buzzed my leg from where my phone lay in my pocket, distracting me from the ponies. It was Terra, and the message only consisted of seven words.

_Do you think Gazzy likes somebody else?_

I sighed, rolling my eyes as I hit reply, contemplating for a moment how to word my answer without coddling her too much or offending her. Terra was very touchy and incredibly insecure about her crush on Gazzy for someone so outspoken and confident. It was a little annoying how often she needed reassurance that things would turn out okay with Gazzy, but Nudge, Ella and I muscled through it. All three of us had boyfriends, and Terra was feeling stressed that the guy she liked showed no sign of reciprocating the feeling. We had tried nudging Gazzy discreetly towards her several times, but so far he had shown nothing but platonic feelings for Terra.

I hadn't really considered that he liked another girl. Although Gazzy was outgoing and generally well-liked, he didn't have a ton of close friends. The only girls I knew him to hang out with more than once a week were the girls on the soccer team and Terrs. Who else could he harbor any feelings for? I couldn't picture Gazzy being the type to avoid a girl he liked out of shyness.

Unless he just didn't like anybody at the moment?…

Ugh, why did I have to deal with this crap? These were Terra's romantic problems, and personally I had heard enough of her whining about a week ago. I loved the girl to death, but if she didn't have the guts to tell Gazzy outright that she liked him, then she should find a different guy. Or at least stop obsessing over it every moment of her waking life.

I was just about to type this into the text bar of my phone when a door flung open upstairs, slamming loudly into the wall. My head flew up, and I found myself on my feet and ready for action. This was a very bad thing, considering I still had a sprained ankle, and I let out an embarrassingly piercing yelp as my foot buckled underneath me and I fell back down. Pain burst through my ankle, and I couldn't do anything but lay curled on the rug clutching the bandaged area.

Fang materialized in the doorway, alerted by my screech. He appeared just in time to see Nudge hurtle down the stairs, fly past him, and barrel out of sight without a word to either of us. A second later, the front door slammed open and closed, and Nudge was gone. Fang and I stared at each other in confusion, me momentarily forgetting the pain in my ankle as I wondered what in the world had just happened.

"Are you okay?" Fang asked first, eyeing my graceless position sprawling on the floor.

"Yeah, I tried to stand by accident," I replied by way of explanation. Fang rolled his eyes, the tension leaving his shoulders. He had obviously been worried by my screeching.

Whoops.

"What happened with Nudge?" I continued, casting a worried glance in the direction she had fled.

"No idea," Fang answered, a hint of worry tightening the corners of his mouth. "Should we ask Gaz?"

"She's fine," Gazzy called from upstairs, his voice muffled and strange. "She just got a text from Terra and had to go."

"Okay," Fang said, raising his voice so Gazzy could hear. "Thanks, Gaz."

"No problem." I could hear Gazzy's door swing shut again. A moment later another explosion boomed through the house.

"How do the neighbors never call the police?" I mused aloud, my mind still on Nudge's rapid disappearance. I glanced down at my phone again, still clutched in my hand, and realized that the text Terra had sent me was also addressed to Nudge. The text Nudge had gotten from Terra was just another standard one of Terra worrying about her (lack of) relationship with Gazzy. It was no reason to bolt out of the door like the house was catching on fire.

So what had made her flee like that?

"Max? Fang? Are we gonna eat?" Angel asked, poking her head through the door.

I smiled, grabbing my crutches from beside me and carefully hopping to my feet again. "Sure thing, kiddo," I replied, crutching towards the hall. Fang waited until I passed before following me out, and a smile tugged at my mouth as I realized he was making sure I didn't fall again. Dating Fang was like having a silent guardian angel.

In ten minutes we had Angel settled down in the kitchen and happily munching away on her food. She babbled adorably on as she ate, telling us about every single aspect of her life. It was like having a mini, blonde Nudge sitting at the table. "And Ria and I went on the playground and played on the swings, and we pretended we was princesses of bluebirds. Except only I was princess of bluebirds and Ria was my best friend princess of squirrels. And the squirrels and the bluebirds had to unite to fight the evil princess of wolves because she wanted to capture us. In art class I drew a picture of me with wings like I had as princess of the bluebirds, 'cept that in the game my wings were blue but I wanted to have white wings in my picture because I'm Angel and angel wings are white, not blue. Ria didn't want to put a squirrely tail on her drawing though, so she just drew a crown and a furry dress. Ria's a good drawer, just like you Fang. Remember when you drawed us as princesses? Your drawing was perfect!" Angel paused to chomp down a few more of the dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. "I wish I had wings," she reflected. "I'd like to be able to fly."

Before Fang or I could respond, the doorbell rang. Angel leaped from her seat, dinosaur chicken and French fries instantly forgotten. "Ria!" she shrieked, sprinting for the door. She skidded around the corner in her socks, but continued undeterred at her breakneck speed. Fang quickly followed, and I was left to crutch frustratingly slowly behind to catch up. I gritted my teeth as my shoulder muscles burned with exertion. The stupid crutches and stupid medicine made my back ache like crazy. I couldn't wait to get off these things.

"Hey Dad," I heard Fang say as I rounded the corner that led to the front door. "Hi Ria," he added, crouching and giving his sister a hug.

"Hi Fang," Maria replied, squeezing her older brother back with her thin little arms before releasing him and tackling Angel. "Angel! I haven't seen you in yearses!" she screeched, hugging her best friend.

The little girls chattered agreeably about how it had been 'yearses' since they'd seen each other, forgetting about us older people as they wandered off into the house.

James Rianild chuckled as he watched Angel and Maria run off. "Those girls are something else," he remarked.

"Yeah, tell me about it," I snorted, grinning affectionately after them. "Fang and I tried to battle them in a water fight before. It ended horribly for our pride."

"I warned you not to try!" Fang protested, smirking as he nudged my shoulder.

I nearly toppled over from the light contact. My shoulders burned with an ache spreading across my shoulderblades and licking down my back. It was so distracting that I could barely concentrate on balancing, and the strain of crutches only made the pain worse. Fang noticed my struggle to stay upright, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me up. I instantly dropped the crutches, not caring where they landed as I leaned back gratefully into Fang's firm hold.

James stared in confusion at his son and I, previous conversation forgotten. "Are you all right, Max?" he asked, brows furrowing. I noticed that a touch of gray that hadn't been there a month ago was spreading across the roots of his hair.

"I told you crutches were a bad idea," I replied, trying to stay lighthearted. "They make my back ache like crazy. And even if that medicine is helping my ankle, it makes the rest of me feel awful."

James' face clouded with guilt, and he swiftly apologized. "I'm so sorry for causing you any extra pain," he said sympathetically. I could see his eyes rove between me and the tight, protective grip Fang had around me. "I wish there was another way," James murmured absently, a strange look on his face.

"Well at least I'm off crutches tomorrow," I offered, trying to put on a brave face. I stood up straight and leaned against the wall as Fang wordlessly let me go and bent to collect my crutches. "That should help."

The look of guilt on James' face only seemed to intensify. Whoops. "I'm sure," he replied, his voice just a bit too bright for the gloomy expression on his face. It appeared that he was trying to seem upbeat, but his expression was reacting just a bit slower than his tone for it to be believable. "Well, I'll pick you two up from here around eleven, okay? Call if the girls fall asleep before then." James started to back out the door, flashing us another smile before heading down the front path.

"Bye, James," I called after him.

"Later, Dad," Fang added, sending a quick half-smile after his dad before lapsing back to neutral. He looked at me, glancing disapprovingly at my crutches for a second. "Do you want me to carry you instead of using those things?" he offered, his forehead slightly creased with worry.

D'awwww. Fang was so adorable. I couldn't help but smile, but I still wasn't about to let him carry me. "I don't like being picked up," I replied primly, shaking my head no. "We've been over this multiple times before, Fang."

"But I like carrying you," he insisted, a roguish little smirky-smiley thing tugging at his mouth.

"Now isn't that too bad," I cooed sympathetically, starting to crutch back down the hallway. Fang followed behind me, just a touch too close to be considered normal. The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I realized what was happening a split second before it actually happened. "Fang!" I shrieked, trying to crutch faster to avoid him.

It didn't work. Familiar arms circled my stomach before I could escape, yanking me upwards so that my body was no longer supported by the crutches. They clattered to the floor at the same moment I started yelping because my feet had lost contact with said floor. In a complicated maneuver that I didn't really understand the mechanics of, Fang twisted me up so that he was once more holding me bridal style against his chest, my bandaged ankle dangling safely in open air at his side. The nasty swoop in my stomach at being completely in someone else's grasp made an unwelcome reappearance. I did _not _like being picked up.

I glared at him. "I hate you," I informed him petulantly, turning my head away from his smirking face.

"Ouch," Fang replied. I could _hear _the smirk in his voice. It was ridiculous. "That really hurts, Max."

"Why does Max get to be carried? I wanna be carried!" Maria chirped, spotting us as we (Fang) walked into the kitchen. She jumped up from the chair where she had been helping herself to Angel's dinosaur chicken nuggets, latching onto Fang's leg.

Angel quickly followed, attaching herself to the free leg of my annoying boyfriend. "Yeah, Fang! Carry us!" she pleaded, blue eyes huge and cajoling. Maria mimicked her best friend, sending a pair of wide brown Bambi Eyes in his direction. They both knew they had him wrapped around their chubby little fingers.

Fang tried to avert his eyes, putting my body in between him and the little girls as a barrier. I sent him a smirk of my own, crossing my arms over my chest. "Yeah Fang, carry them," I repeated, giving him a smug look.

He carefully set me down at the table, making sure I was comfortably seated before yanking both little girls off of his legs and tossing them over his shoulders. "You want to be carried?" he asked them quietly, his eyes glinting in amusement as they both started shrieking with excitement. I laughed as Fang started jogging around the house, Maria and Angel bouncing and yelping with joy over his shoulders as they went.

Seriously, I was getting paid for this? This was the best babysitting job ever, hands down.

My phone buzzed again, and I pulled it out of my pocket in surprise. I had forgotten to actually send the reply text to Terra, so I wasn't expecting her to answer. I squinted at my phone, realizing that in all of the excitement I had missed more than one message. In the conversation I had with Terra and Nudge, there was now a little sequence of texts that had not been there ten minutes ago.

First was Nudge, replying to the original text: _Maybe you should try to move on._

Then it was Terra, replying with a signature dramatic answer that Nudge, Ella, and I had grown very used to over the past couple weeks: _I can't just give up! I could be making the mistake of my life!_

Nudge seemed to be annoyed at that response, and I couldn't blame her. As much as I loved Terra, the only thing she ever seemed to want to talk about anymore was Gazzy. It was getting pretty irritating hanging out with her at times, when every comment would somehow start a conversation about our favorite blond soccer diva. _He'll always be your friend, Terra, even if it turns out that he doesn't like you more than that._

Terra was not pleased with that answer. _I don't want to be friends._

Nudge didn't respond.

I sighed, suddenly feeling weighed down. Great. Now I had girl drama to deal with.

And why had Nudge run out of the house in the first place? It obviously wasn't an emergency visit to Terra, if she was texting her right now. I frowned at my cell phone screen, rereading the texts.

I tried to force myself to look on the bright side. At least I was off crutches tomorrow. Maybe that would help lessen my irritating back pains. At least my ankle was healing. At least everything was perfect with Fang right now. At least my biggest worries were an argument brewing between Nudge and Terra, and Gazzy being moody. Well, there was the horrible truth I had just discovered about Max II being Mike Baxter's foster brother, and the fact that maybe my injury wasn't actually an accident, but an orchestrated event fueled by Max II's hate for me-

I stopped myself. Everything would be okay. It had to be.

"Hey Max! Come watch How to Train Your Dragon with us!" chirped Angel's voice from the living room.

Fang materialized in the doorway, a slight smile on his lips as he walked towards me. All depressing thoughts fled my head as I realized he was going to try to pick me up again. "No more carrying!" I protested, trying to squirm away from him. This was difficult, considering I was pretty much stranded in a chair.

"But Max, I love you," Fang said innocently, his dark eyes widening as he advanced on me.

My willpower crumbled. "Don't try to pull that card, or I'll smack you!" I threatened halfheartedly, trying to sound firm.

It was just a display of my irritating inability to resist Fang's persuasion tactics that approximately fifteen seconds later I was slung over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and scowling at his back as he carried me into the living room.

I really couldn't wait until I got my boot tomorrow and could walk again.

**Someone's POV**

The guilt was starting to catch up to me. The pain on her face, her naïveté that shielded her from believing anything was out of the ordinary. I couldn't stand it for much longer.

"Sir, Dylan is planning on severing ties with the other girl tomorrow so that he can focus properly on the main subject," my assistant informed me, popping his head into my office. "And Maxwell says to tell you that he's trying to get information about what could lure them all effectively into our hands."

"Why can't we just kidnap them all off the streets?" I asked tonelessly, keeping my eyes on my laptop screen. Pages of notes on Zephyr Richards stared back at me, facts and figures that I already knew. I clicked to the next pages. Maximum Ride. Monique Yolinta. Jonathan Fields. Nicholas Rianild. I had seen this file too many times to count. The guilt gnawed deeper.

"The boss said that the plan has changed," my assistant informed me, suddenly seeming hesitant.

"How so?" I murmured. My attention had just been caught by something new. The 'next' arrow at the bottom of the file was still glowing blue, informing me that there was another document to be viewed. I frowned. What other document was there? I had already passed through the ones pertaining to all of the subjects. I clicked the arrow.

My heart stopped.

"The boss says that we need to have a wider age range," my assistant continued, apparently unaware of the ultimate shock I was going through. "Jonathan is older, and the other subjects are mainly one age. The boss wants a younger subject involved too, as a test factor."

Younger.

I stared at the new subject, the one who had just been added. A smiling face stared back, blue eyes and blonde curls achingly familiar.

"The boss says that the Richards girl will do just fine."

**Aha, yeah. So this chapter might not make any sense. ****PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF IT DOESN'T, I HONESTLY CANNOT TELL DUE TO MY CONFUSED STATE OF CONCUSSEDNESS.**** To clear a bit up about the ponies, I've uploaded Nudge's POV of what happened upstairs in a new story called ****Deleted Scenes****. I'd love if you gave it a read through. (: That should clear up Gazzy's behavior, but I didn't want to put it here because I didn't want to switch out of Max's POV. Also, **_**Dynamite Sprinkles was Dylan, and Pebble Princess was Terra**_**. Make sense?**

**I haven't been able to play soccer for 3 weeks because of this concussion. IT SUCKS.**

**Soooo… Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Happy New Year! Aha, I'm so smooth. (: It was also ****my birthday**** last Wednesday, which I happened to have finals testing on… ): wanna review as a birthday/Christmas present? (:**

**~TMI~**


	42. I Hate Mondays

**I'M SO SORRY FOR MY HORRIBLE TREATMENT OF YOU GUYS. Life got in the way. Crap projects, school, soccer, choir, orchestra, dance rehearsal… sleep…**

**Yeah, I've been ridiculously busy. So I apologize. Here's your two-month-late chapter! (:**

I should've felt great today, right?

I mean, I was off crutches, for one. That was a huge plus to my outlook on life. I no longer had to pathetically struggle to walk everywhere on two sticks with an annoying backpack bumping me with every step. Now I had a nice, tidy boot encasing my injured leg, and I could just walk around semi-normally. Another plus was now Fang had no logic to pick me up anymore, so I stayed with two feet firmly on the ground.

But…

It was also a Monday. And Mondays are never good in the life of Maximum Ride. As bright and shiny as the morning seemed as Fang, Ella and I walked up to Cromwell's front gates, I knew that it was only a matter of time before something went drastically wrong.

"Cheer up, Max," Ella coaxed, noting my gloom-and-doom expression and instantly knowing what was on my mind. "Things will only go drastically wrong if you believe that they will."

"Great minds think alike," I replied, a smile twisting the corner of my mouth.

"And then, there's ours," Ella finished, flashing a grin at me. "Damn, I am good."

"I don't understand how this whole sister thing works," Fang announced, looking between me and Ella with furrowed eyebrows. "You're only even half-sisters too, yet you're completely in tune with each other practically all the time."

"I like to think it comes from years of being on the move with only two constant people in your life all the time," I volunteered, my smile dimming a bit. "Ells and I were always close, and Mom can usually do the whole I'm-reading-your-emotions-and-thoughts thing pretty well too. We're just a very close little family." Ella smiled, reaching over and squeezing my hand for a second before letting go.

Fang nodded slowly, thinking this over. "That sounds about right," he agreed. "So you three just have a sixth sense sort of thing about the others' feelings?"

"I guess you could call it that," Ella replied, shrugging. "Oh look! There's Iggy! Catch you guys later!" she chirped, promptly ditching us and rushing over to her boyfriend. I watched as she laced her hand through his, and Iggy's face visibly brightened. They were adorable.

"Why are you frowning like that?" Fang asked, cocking his head to the side and looking at me with an amused expression on his face. "Something wrong?"

"It's a Monday," I explained automatically. "Something will go wrong."

"Max, you can't think like that," Fang chided, reaching out and grabbing my hand. I looked up at him in surprise, but he only gave me a small smile in return. "Like Ella said, if you think it's gonna be a suckish day then that's your outlook's fault, not the fact that it's a Monday," he continued. "It's not like just because it's a Monday some huge major crap is gonna unfold-"

"You just wait," I interrupted seriously, nodding at him knowingly. "It will happen. I can sense the Monday blues power resonating in the aura of this deceptively calm atmosph-"

"Shut up," Fang ordered. I grinned, and he rolled his eyes. "Let's just go to class, okay?"

"Fang! Hey, Fang!"

We both turned at the sound of Ford's voice. He was running out from the gym doors, his hair wildly disheveled and his expression frantic. "Sup Ford?" Fang greeted him, curiously looking over our strange goalkeeper friend.

Ford bent down and put his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. It was obvious he had been running very quickly for a long time, or had been doing something really exerting. It took quite a bit to wind Ford, and winded was exactly what he was. "I need your help with Gaz," he explained, "He's shooting a ball at classroom walls all up and down C Hall, and refuses to stop. He's all moody and crap, but he's gonna get in serious trouble if he breaks a window or damages something. Ms. Nirzoa is already pissed at him for the other shit he's done this year."

I grimaced at the mention of the school principal. Apparently she had almost nailed Iggy, Gaz, Lucas and Matt for a case of vandalism earlier this year she had been sure they had committed. Gazzy definitely did not need a vandalism charge that he had actually committed on his record right now. "Go reason with him," I ordered, pushing Fang towards Ford. "Remind him he can't play soccer if he's suspended."

Fang sighed, releasing my hand and wordlessly following Ford at a jog. I watched for a moment as they ran away, then continued on down the hallway. Gazzy had been awfully moody since our babysitting job, come to think of it. I wondered what was bothering him. That kid really should go see Richie…

"Hey Max!"

Before I could turn to identify the voice calling my name, I was suddenly wrapped in a pair of extremely strong, rib-crushing arms. "Hi Nudge," I managed to breathe out. "How's it going?"

Nudge released her ninja hug on me, allowing me to step back and exercise use of my lungs again. "I'm doing okay," she replied, flashing a quick smile. We started walking down the hallway again, weaving through the crowds of students clumped everywhere.

"You look tired," I noted, frowning as I caught sight of the dark smudges under Nudge's eyes. She didn't just look tired, she looked exhausted. Her usually flawless makeup was not half as complex as it usually was, and her wild frizzy curls were even frizzier than normal, only contained by a bright blue scrunchie. "Is everything okay?"

"Peachy," Nudge assured me, a pained expression flashing across her face.

I didn't even bother to pretend I was buying her poor acting. "Yeah right," I scoffed, inspecting her tired face more closely. Her eyes were bloodshot. "What's wrong, Nudge? You can tell me." I bumped her shoulder gently, taking care not to hit her injured wrist.

"Nothing's wrong," Nudge insisted, flashing another weak smile. "I'm just… confused. Tired. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I was thinking- you know how I left so suddenly from Gaz's hou-"

Nudge's voice cut off abruptly. She stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, her face suddenly tight and blank.

I stopped too, wondering what had happened. "Nudge?" I asked in confusion. Her dark eyes were narrowing with an emotion I couldn't place –hurt, shock, anger?- and locked on one spot. I turned to follow her gaze, my eyes landing on a couple of kids making out against a locker bank.

Then I realized who those 'couple of kids' were.

Dylan was sucking face with another girl. She was a senior, if I remembered correctly, although she was a petite 5'3" to Dylan's 5'11". She made up for the height difference though with five inch heels (to school? Honestly?) and an iron grip on Dylan's hair.

Nudge stood beside me, rigid and frozen in place by the sight we were witnessing. I turned sharply away from the jerk and his girl, stepping in front of Nudge's view to block her from watching anymore. As soon as her line of vision was cut off, Nudge gave a strangled little cry and lunged forward, her eyes wild.

Ah, there we go. Horrible Monday morning vibes are never wrong.

Even if it had looked like she was going to start sobbing in the middle of the hallway ten seconds before, now Nudge looked liable to tear somebody's head off no problem. Nudge's style was more of a revenge first, break down later type of thing. Right now was the revenge part, and she looked like she wanted to full on attack Dylan until he was unable to make babies, or breathe for that matter.

And I was about to gladly help her, too!

But then that annoying thing called common sense kicked in. We were on school property, on a school day, right before homeroom was about to start. Killing Dylan now might get us expelled. We definitely would not be able to hide the evidence before a teacher found us, and there were too many witnesses in the hallway right now. Unfortunately, we would have to wait to commit our murder.

But just try explaining that to a furious, wrathful Nudge.

I latched onto her arms, grabbing her by the shoulders and holding her back so she wouldn't go rip out Dylan's spleen and strangle the girl with it. "Nudge, calm down," I ordered quietly, my teeth gritted and muscles straining. Nudge was stronger than one might think at first glance, and I was having trouble restraining her. My back ached with the strain of holding her back, the now-familiar irritating pain surging down my spine in waves.

"Calm down?" Nudge asked in disbelief, her normally clear, happy eyes now snapping with a burning, righteous fury. "The bastard is cheating on me! I'm going to go teach him the meaning of the word pain!"

Nudge's angry words carried quite clearly across the hall, gathering everyone's attention instantly. Everyone's except for Dylan and his make-out buddy, that was. No one here had ever had the misfortune to get in the way of Nudge when she was seriously pissed off, and they were shocked by her sudden transformation from bubbly, preppy teen girl into vengeful Amazon warrior.

"I know Nudge, and you have every right to go kill him- just not right now!" I hissed, getting a better hold on her as she tried to break free and run at Dylan. "There are witnesses, Nudge! You could get expelled!"

"Screw it!" she growled. "I don't care!" With that, she twisted ferociously out of my grasp and stalked up to where Dylan had his little friend pressed against a bank of lockers. Nudge's highly fashionable, brightly colored outfit was totally incongruous with the expression of ultimate rage on her face, but it wasn't funny at all at the moment. She was seriously pissed.

Note to self: warn her future boyfriends of what happens when they cheat on her. After all, it would only be fair to give them a proper heads up.

Nudge grabbed Dylan by the shoulder with her good hand, roughly whirling him around and detaching his face from the girl's. Now that they weren't totally making out, I vaguely recognized her. Her name was Cindy, or something like that. Nudge paid no attention to her, although the girl looked seriously frightened. Even though Nudge was a freshman and Cindy was a senior, Nudge was naturally 5'8" even without her heeled boots giving her an extra inch, and she had the advantage of anger on her side.

Nudge kept her hand firmly on Dylan's shoulder and slammed him backwards into the lockers, glaring furiously straight up into his eyes. "Dylan, honey," she purred, her eyes narrowing. I could see her perfectly manicured nails digging into his shoulder even from here. "What the hell do you think you were just doing? Did you think that little _Nudgeykins_ wouldn't find out, or would that she would forgive you?" Nudge laughed, but it was a scary laugh, devoid of any trace of her usual bubbliness. "Ultimate. Bull. Shit," she snarled, the laugh gone in an instant.

Dylan looked down at her steadily. "I thought-" he began, his voice utterly calm.

"Whatever you thought, you thought wrong," Nudge spat. "We are so over." Nudge let go of his shoulder, looking revolted by his very existence, and turned on her heel to walk back towards me.

"Well, can I go back to kissing her now, bitch?" Dylan's voice, cool and collected, rang out through the hallway.

Nudge's fists clenched, and her face contorted with fury as she visibly attempted to hold in the urge to murder him. That's my girl. She didn't deserve this crap, not one bit of it. Dylan was so going to pay when he had to sit next to me in class later. Nudge slowly turned around to face Dylan again, the terrifying look on her face wiping away Dylan's satisfied smirk in less then a second. "Go ahead, you douche," Nudge replied, her voice shaking with controlled rage. "See if I care."

I couldn't believe it when Dylan actually turned around and leaned forward to kiss Cindy again. "What the hell?!" I yelled, my sudden outburst making Dylan recoil from Cindy like he had been burned. He whipped his head around to stare at me, blue eyes wide. "Are you seriously going to go back to making out with her, right in front of Nudge? You really suck, don't you Dylan?" I snarled.

Dylan looked guilty all of a sudden. It was about time. Honestly. "Max, when did you get here?" he asked. His voice had suddenly lost its calm confidence. Oh, he better be afraid of me.

"I've been standing here this whole time, as you would've noticed if you had been with your girlfriend instead of Cindy here," I replied bitingly. Nudge crossed her arms beside me, and we both glared at the Cindy person, who glared right back.

"My name is Sandy!" she corrected me, narrowing her eyes at me as if I was the one in the wrong here.

"And I don't give a shit," I informed her flippantly, rolling my eyes. Did she really think she was that important? "What I care about is that you were kissing my friend's boyfriend and don't seem all that sorry, so you better beat it before I get angry." I locked gazes with Cindy/Sandy, daring her to test me.

She huffed, but apparently valued her limbs, because she trotted off down the hallway without a backwards glance at Dylan. I turned my attention away from the senior and back onto Dylan. "Same thing goes for you," Nudge spat, glaring at Dylan like she wanted his head to combust right there in the hallway. I stood right beside her, backing her up.

Dylan stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing my arm before I could stop him. "Max, let me explain-" he tried to say.

I tried to shake his hand off, but the damn boy had too strong of a hold on me. "Get off me," I growled. "You should be apologizing to Nudge, not me. And forget about even trying to 'explain'."

"Max-" Dylan tried again.

"Get off of her, Dylan!" Nudge demanded, her voice going shrill with anger. She shoved at Dylan's arm with her good hand, digging her nails into his wrist.

"No," Dylan snapped back. He pulled me forward when I tried to yank my arm back, making me stumble. Pain lanced through my injured ankle, and I accidentally lurched forward into Dylan's chest. He held me there, and I felt my mind go dark with anger. Where was Fang when I needed him right now? "Max, listen to me-"

He didn't have time to say anything else, because Danny Armstrong materialized out of nowhere, wrenched me out of Dylan's arms, and shoved him smack into the lockers.

I stumbled backward, almost falling on my ass before Nudge caught me. I quickly regained my balance, turning to make sure I hadn't hurt her wrist. "Nudge, are you okay?" I asked, reaching out and gently grabbing her brace to inspect it.

Nudge paid me no attention, choosing to gape over my shoulder instead.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my friend's girl, Gunther?" Danny growled behind me. I whirled around, shocked at the intense venom in his usually sunny voice. Danny had Dylan's shirt collar fisted in one of his hands, his other arm flat against his chest and pinning him to the locker banks. Everyone in the hall had cleared a twenty foot radius to watch in dead silence, shocked by this previously unseen side of Danny. "What do you think you're doing to Max, huh?" Danny repeated, a dangerous glower darkening his face.

"Get off me," Dylan bit out. He had the audacity to look offended by Danny's manhandling.

"All right," Danny agreed. He forcibly yanked Dylan away from the lockers and pushed him in a different direction, landing him right in the vice grip of a certain blond friend of ours who had stepped out of the crowd.

Gazzy was actually shaking with anger as he took his turn to shove Dylan into a locker bank. Gaz didn't waste time with thinly veiled threats though. A loud cracking noise rang through the silent hallway as Gazzy's fist slammed into Dylan's face.

"Gazzy!" Nudge shrieked, trying to surge forward towards the now brawling pair of boys. "Get off him, Dylan! Gaz! Gazzy!"

Danny stepped swiftly over, gently but firmly guiding Nudge away from the fight. The crowd parted for Danny to steer her through, and with a last glance at Gazzy beating the crap out of four-inch taller and a hell of a lot more muscular Dylan, I followed behind.

Danny herded Nudge down a side hall, his arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders so she couldn't escape. As we got further from the fight, the crowds thickened and the noise got louder, turning into a normal high school scene. "You're just gonna let Gazzy fight with Dylan?" Nudge demanded, obviously furious. "Don't you have any concern for him? What if they get caught? What if he gets in trouble and gets suspended and his parents will be pissed and ground him till he's twenty and he won't be able to play school sports for awhile so we won't have our best forward on the team for championships and it will all be your fault, Danny Armstrong! What if he gets hurt? ZOMG what if he's seriously injured? I need to get back there!" Nudge ranted ceaselessly, still speaking as she struggled valiantly to get out of Danny's hold.

"Nudge," Danny tried to say.

"Why the hell did you make me walk away?" Nudge snapped.

"Because Gazzy made me," Danny admitted, effectively shutting Nudge up. Danny took advantage of this to keep talking. "Personally, I was all for letting you claw Dylan's face off by yourself, but then he started harassing Max too, and Fang would've killed us if he found out we stood there and did nothing… and then there was the issue of Gaz's bloodthirsty rage over Dylan cheating on you and calling you a bitch…"

"Bloodthirsty rage?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at Danny. "Why was Gaz the one in the bloodthirsty rage and you're all calm right now?"

Danny gave me a quick, disbelieving glance. "What do you mea- oh wait." Danny paused, understanding dawning on his face. "You're Max. You're clueless with feelings."

"Hey!" I protested. "I have a boyfriend!"

Danny snorted. "Your boyfriend sucks at feelings too," he replied. "So it doesn't give you any points for dating him. Anyway, as I was saying…" Danny turned his attention fully back to Nudge. "Let Gaz defend you. It'll make him feel better."

"Why does he feel the need to defend me?" Nudge asked petulantly, crossing her arms. "Max and I could've handled Dylan without help from either of you, and without a fistfight!"

Danny half-smiled, running a hand through his hair. "You know why he needs to defend you, Nudge," he informed her gently. "Gaz told me what happened. You need to talk to him."

Nudge's jaw literally dropped. "He told you?" she sputtered. "But- wait- I thought you cared- about me?" she squeaked out. Nudge's dark cheeks flared red.

Danny only gave her a slightly sad, slightly wistful smile. "But we both know who cares more," he replied quietly. "And I know you care about him more than you do for me. It's okay Nudge, I never had a chance. You're out of my league."

Nudge snorted, giving him a skeptical look. "I'm out of the league of popular, handsome, brilliant, athletic, super friendly, amazing senior Danny Armstrong?" she scoffed.

Danny laughed. He pulled Nudge forward in a short hug, then drew back quickly. "Exactly," he agreed. "I'm glad we're on the same page here. And we'll always be friends, okay?"

Nudge just stared at him. "Okay," she echoed, sounding dazed. "So you think I should talk to him?"

"Make things right," Danny agreed. "Go get him, tiger." And with a final, two-finger salute, Danny Armstrong gave up any claim to Nudge's heart and walked peacefully away.

"What the hell just happened?" I demanded, always the sensitive type.

Nudge gazed after Danny for a second, then grabbed my arm and dragged me back down the hall towards where we had left Dylan and Gazzy. She wouldn't respond to anything I said, so I finally gave up and let her drag me.

There was no sign of a fight when we got back to the scene, and everyone was milling about normally, quickly disappearing into their first period classrooms. "Where did they go?" Nudge demanded, frizzed curls flying as she whipped her head looking anxiously around.

"Either they got caught and are in the office, or they went off to first period," I replied. "Somewhere we should be now."

As if to prove my point, the one minute warning bell rang.

"Crap, I gotta go," I realized, tugging my hand from Nudge's grip. "Good luck with whatever it was you and Danny were talking about, Nudge!"

I heard her sigh as I hurried away.

Fang didn't say a word as I flew into class four minutes late, his dark eyes blazing into me as I walked up the aisle and plopped beside him at our shared desk. However, as soon as I had set my backpack down, Fang reached over and grabbed the leg of my chair, pulling me until my chair clunked into his. This task completed, he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me against his side. I looked up at him, startled by the random display of affection.

"I heard about Dylan," Fang explained, a scowl darkening his face. I glanced over to where Dylan should have been sitting, and was pleased to discover his absence from the room. I fervently hoped that Gazzy had destroyed him. "I can't believe I wasn't there to pummel him for touching you."

I scowled at Fang. "I don't need you to pummel anyone for me," I retorted. "I don't do damsel in distress. And anyway, Gaz and Danny had a field day pummeling each other by themselves."

Fang snorted. "Pummeling each other?" he echoed disbelievingly. "More like Gaz kicking Dylan's ass."

"Gazzy Richards is at least four inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter than Dylan," I pointed out. "And he's the thin, lean type, whereas Dylan is the muscled, brawny type. And Gaz was kicking Dylan's ass?"

"Yeah," Fang said, rolling his eyes at my skepticism. "Gaz barely had a scratch on him, other than a black eye, bruised ribcage and torn shirtsleeve. He's a very quick fighter, and he was furious. Dylan didn't stand a chance."

I nodded slowly, trying to reason this out in my mind. Gazzy was very protective of his friends, and Nudge happened to be one of his best friends. He was probably beyond pissed that Dylan had treated her so badly. "Where's Gaz now?" I asked.

"Homeroom with Mr. Sampson," Fang answered. "He got away clean with beating up Dylan. Dylan, however, is in the nurse's office claiming to have fallen down a flight of stairs." Fang's lips twitched upward. "A flight of stairs that punched him repeatedly in the face and stomach and pushed him around like a twig."

I smiled despite myself. "I'm proud of Gaz for standing up for Nudge," I said. "Wasn't he not talking to her very much for the past couple weeks?"

"Because she was dating Dylan against his advice not to, and he was frustrated," Fang replied. "So Gaz kind of predicted something like this happening."

"I told you Mondays suck," I muttered ominously.

The announcements, which always crackled on in the background of Homeroom while I chatted with Fang, suddenly gained importance when I heard: "And will the following people please come to the front office? Frannie Smith, Jason Garcia, and Dwayne Pearson to Ms. Jean, and Zephyr Richards to the counselor. Thank you, and have a great day."

Fang and I turned to look at each other at the same time. "Gaz is going to see Richie," I pointed out, a bit redundantly. "Maybe we'll finally get some answers about his moodiness!"

"Or maybe Dylan spilled about the fight and Ms. Nirzoa is putting Gaz in anger management," Fang replied calmly.

I frowned. "Pessimist," I scolded.

"Optimist," Fang countered teasingly.

"How is being optimistic a bad thing?" I demanded incredulously.

Fang only shook his head at me, looking half-mocking, half-serious. "Optimism is just a kind name for naïveté," he explained. "And being naive blinds you to the truth of the world around you. You find normal reasons for irregular activities because you refuse to believe something bad is happening. Optimism is dangerous." He snorted. "And all this morning you've been predicting Monday Morning Disaster, so I wouldn't call you the epitome of optimism, although you do tend to have a nasty streak of it in you."

"You're so depressing, Fang."

"No, I'm right."

¥~\,¥•••••••••••••••••••

Gazzy glared at the front of the cluttered desk. "I'm not spilling my heart to you," he stated flatly.

Richie Reynolds leaned back in his chair and smiled, steepling his fingers on his stomach. "Funny, that's what Iggy and Max said too," he remarked mildly. "Yet I now know all about Iggy's every insecurity and the details of Max's past. Interesting how that works out, huh?"

Gazzy glanced up sharply. "You've been talking to Max and Iggy?" he demanded, looking wary of the counselor all of a sudden.

Richie nodded. "Yep," he agreed. "I'm very effective at getting answers. I should get a pay raise."

Gazzy stared at Richie, his face stony. "I don't know why I'm here," he stated, getting straight to the point.

Richie laughed, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head. "If you'd like to harbor a guess, I would go with the shiner on your face," Richie advised. "It matches your friend Max's black eye pretty nicely. Although, hers is fading a lot by now."

"What of it?" Gazzy asked defensively, crossing his arms. He was still pissed about Dylan, and not in the mood to deal with Richie's crap. "So I've got a black eye. Shouldn't I be in the nurse's office instead of the guidance counselor?"

"You could be getting expelled for fighting," Richie informed him seriously. "At Cromwell we take these things very seriously. And you were the one who initiated the fight, Mr. Richards."

Gazzy just stared at the counselor, unimpressed with the consequences he had painted out. "What of it?" Gazzy repeated.

"Well, I asked for them to send you here," Richie replied amicably. He leaned forward and pulled a white box out from a half open desk drawer. "Would you like a donut, Mr. Richards?" he offered.

Gazzy stared at the carton of powdered donuts. "Just tell me why I'm here so I can go back to class," he said, his voice monotone.

"Are you sure you don't want a donut?" Richie persisted. "I find that they make everything better."

"Tell me why you asked for me," Gazzy repeated, his voice taking on a deadly edge.

"Have a donut," Richie replied, his voice just as solemn.

"Are you serious?" Gazzy demanded incredulously, staring at the guidance counselor. "I don't want a donut! I want to go back to class!"

"I want you to take a donut, Gazzy," was Richie's only response.

"If I take a damn donut will you tell me why I'm here?" Gazzy asked, exasperated by the whole conversation.

"Yes," Richie agreed, smiling contentedly at the aggravated teenager in front of him.

With a low growl, Gazzy reached forward and snatched a donut from the box. "There," he snarled. "Now why am I here?"

"Take a bite," Richie instructed him calmly.

"For the love of all that is holy!" Gazzy shouted, fed up with the calm, unwavering responses of the man. "What is it with you and these donuts?"

Richie just smiled. "It's for your own good, Gaz," he replied mysteriously. "Trust me on this one."

Gazzy ripped a bite from the powdered donut, scowling as he chewed. White powder gathered at the corners of his mouth, but failed to lessen the severity of the ferocious glare he was sending the guidance counselor. "Spill," Gazzy barked around his mouthful of pastry.

"I want to talk to you about Nudge," Richie informed him calmly.

Gazzy froze. Had Nudge gotten in trouble for the scene this morning? He had thought she had gotten away clean since he'd forced Danny to lead her away from the fight. Maybe Dylan had ratted her out? "What about her?" Gazzy demanded, keeping his tone guarded.

"Ah, more open to listening now, aren't you?" Richie asked knowingly, an infuriating twinkle in his eye.

"What of it?" Gazzy muttered rebelliously, feeling slightly warmer. He averted his eyes to stare out the window at the athletic facilities. He had a perfect view of the PE class that was in session.

"You like her, am I right?" Richie pressed, leaning forward. "That's what made you attack Dylan earlier."

Gazzy took his eyes off the window, dull embarrassment replaced with sharp wariness. "Why do you care about how I feel about Nudge?" he asked slowly, ignoring the prying questions the guidance counselor was asking.

"I care because after you leave, I'm calling her in to talk about her recent breakup with Mr. Gunther," Richie replied smoothly. "I want to know if someone is going to help me pick up the pieces. I have a feeling it will be you, Mr. Richards."

Gazzy laughed harshly, crossing his arms. "Nudge's too strong to let Dylan break her," he scoffed. "And besides, she won't want me to pick up any pieces. Apparently I'm off limits to her." Pure hurt rang in his voice, however much he tried to hide it.

Richie raised an eyebrow. "Off limits?" he repeated questioningly.

That was all that Gazzy needed to spill out his pent up frustration. "I finally managed to admit my damn feelings to her this weekend, and at first everything was going perfectly," Gazzy spat, averting his eyes to the window and ripping a vicious bite from the powdered donut. "Then she starts freaking out that her friend Terra likes me and Nudge 'just can't hurt her like that', but is apparently perfectly willing to hurt me instead. She ran out, and I haven't talked to her since." Gazzy's knee jerked reflexively, an automatic longing to piledrive a soccer ball onto a net ripping through him. Soccer was a defense mechanism as well as a passion for Gazzy. It soothed his fury and hurt. He'd been kicking a soccer ball up and down the halls all morning while Ford tried to stop him, letting out his excess stress from his encounter with Nudge. More than anything, he just wanted to kiss her again.

But that was definitely out of the question.

"God damn it, I just want things to be simple!" Gazzy shouted, abruptly standing up and shoving the chair back. "I'm outta here."

"Gazzy, wait-" Richie tried to say, reaching out as if to try to magically pull him back.

"Stop trying to grill me about the girl who obviously doesn't give a damn about me!" Gazzy snapped. "I fought for her this morning because she deserves better and I have to protect her. That doesn't make our argument go away. She still puts Terra before me. I put no one before her." Seething furiously, Gazzy whipped open the door and started to storm out.

It was then that he realized Max II was standing a foot away from the door, at a spot where he could clearly hear the conversation (aka Gazzy's angry yelling) going on in Richie's office. His face was wiped innocently clean, but his gray eyes glittered with newfound knowledge.

"It's rude to eavesdrop," Gazzy hissed at his ex-friend, stopping momentarily. He wondered how long Max II had been standing there.

"It's even ruder to refuse a donut from Mr. Reynolds," Max II replied smoothly, letting Gazzy now exactly how much he had heard. "So Nudge is your weakness," Max II mused. "You're so easygoing most of the time, Gaz. But that pretty little girl gets you all worked up."

"Shut up," Gazzy spat through gritted teeth. Just the mention of Nudge's name made hurt fire spring up in his chest, clawing harshly at his throat.

"Even the threat of expulsion doesn't make you blink, yet you start screaming the second Nudge's name is uttered," Max II continued thoughtfully, tapping his chin and ignoring Gazzy's quickly growing anger.

"I've gotten in trouble for fighting before," Gazzy said, barely containing his anger at Max II's commentary. His voice was bitter and harsh, a far cry from his normal tone.

"But I've never seen you this mad before," Max II continued, smirking nastily at Gazzy. "So I finally found out what makes Gazzy Richards tick. It only took me the whole school year."

Gazzy stared at Max II, thrown by the last statement. "You were friends with me to find out my weaknesses?" he asked slowly, glaring at the boy he used to call a friend. "That's screwed up, dude."

The look on Max II's face was completely calm, tinted with amusement from his superior little smirk. He didn't appear to be fazed at all by the poison in Gazzy's voice. However, his voice when he spoke betrayed his bitterness. "Why else would I want to be friends with any of you guys?" Max II spat. "You never really cared about me anyway. I was an afterthought, the odd one out. Matt and Lucas, Vlasis and Jake, Terra and Nudge, you, Fang and Iggy. When Max and Ella came it only got worse." A cruel little smile curled around his mouth "Then there was Max Baxter, the kid you guys were gracious enough to let tag around with you."

"That's not true," Gazzy retorted, although in the back of his mind he had a feeling that it actually was. There were very often occurrences where Max II had been excluded because they'd forgotten him, because there weren't enough seats in a car, because everyone had paired off and he was left alone. When the soccer tryout results for Cromwell had come out, all of their friends had been so busy celebrating having made the team that nobody noticed that Max II hadn't gotten on. Max II was right about that, at least.

The redhead laughed, shaking his head mockingly as he watched the realization cross Gazzy's face. "You know it's true," Max II snapped. "But don't worry, I'm not regretful about any of it. It only means I have more of a grudge against you golden kids to hold to hold off any guilt that may hit me." Max II narrowed his eyes, looking thoughtful. "And I'm not as dumb as Dylan is," he added threateningly. "Later, Gazzy. You should be worried."

Gazzy watched Max II push the door open and walk into Richie's office, unable to find a good reply before it was too late. So Max II was holding grudges against all of them, not just Max. Now that he knew Gazzy's weakness, Gazzy knew he had to watch his back. And even more so, he'd have to keep an eye on Nudge.

Gazzy groaned, walking away from Richie's office with even more pent up anger than he'd came with. His black eye was throbbing, and his knuckles were sore from beating up Dylan. It wasn't even second period and he'd already had enough frustration to last the whole week.

This was turning out to be a really crappy Monday. 

I glanced around the lunch table, wondering what I could say that somebody might actually reply to. I felt like I would either be screamed at for saying something wrong or totally ignored. Jake, Vlasis, Matt and Lucas were apparently oblivious to the horribly thick tension draping the table, but I could almost feel myself suffocating under its weight.

Gazzy and Nudge were fastidiously avoiding each other's eyes (they were probably feeling awkward about the whole fistfight deal this morning).

Terra and Nudge seemed to be forcing themselves to be cordial to each other. I had been forced to watch them argue back and forth over the group text this weekend, fighting about none other than the subject of Terra's intense affections, Mr. Gazzy Richards. The same boy who wouldn't spare a glance at either one of them right now.

Iggy and Ella were ignoring everyone, caught up in some goo-goo land of their own.

Fang was absent from the table. I wasn't sure where he was, but he had mentioned something about working on an English project in second period. He may have been in the library.

That's it. I was done with the silence and everyone ignoring everyone. "I'm outta here," I announced, standing up and sweeping my lunch off the table. "You guys should go see Richie or something if you're in so much of a huge fight right now," I advised Nudge, Gazzy, and Terra in general.

Gazzy stiffened suddenly, standing up and flinging his legs off the bench. "I'm never talking to that damned guy again," Gazzy growled at me, uncharacteristically stony and angry as he glared at me. "Stupid asshole."

"Hey! Richie's cool!" Iggy defended the counselor, looking briefly away from his girlfriend. "He gives out powdered donuts!"

This comment only seemed to infuriate Gazzy more. "Don't even talk to me about his damn donuts!" Gazzy snapped, his eyes narrowing. "I'm leaving."

"Gazzy-" Nudge stood up, her hand rising as if to stop him from storming off.

"Leave me alone, Nudge," Gazzy said softly, all the poison in his voice gone. It was replaced with an empty kind of sound, one that left me feeling hollow as I listened to it. "It's too late."

Nudge slowly sank back down in her seat as Gazzy pushed his way through the cafeteria and disappeared out through the double doors.

"What's up with him?" Terra remarked to no one in particular.

Nudge abruptly stood. "You know what? I'm done too," she said, her eyes fixed on the doors that Gazzy had just left through. "I need to talk to Gazzy."

"What? You aren't done yet," Terra disagreed, looking up at her suspiciously. "Is there something you want to tell me, Nudge?" There was a strange challenge in Terra's eyes, a look that I didn't particularly like shining on her face.

"Not really, actually," Nudge replied coolly, staring levelly back at the blonde girl. "I just need to have a conversation with Gazzy."

"I'll come with you," Terra said, her tone indicating that she wasn't offering, she was demanding. I stared in shock at the unspoken, razor sharp tension lying between the girls who were supposedly best friends.

"Terra…" Nudge started warningly, giving her a look.

"What? Is it a problem that I want to talk to Gazzy too?" Terra challenged. "I'm more entitled to having a private conversation with him than you, Nudge."

"Terra," I cut in, trying to contain my shock at the contempt in her voice. Where was all of this coming from?

Terra ignored me, simply staring at Nudge. Neither of the girls blinked or moved, holding their own sort of contest of wills in the middle of the lunchroom chaos.

The bell rang to signal five minutes to next period, causing the two girls to break eye contact and glance away grudgingly.

"Well, it looks like no one will be talking to Gazzy now," I remarked, trying to lighten the situation.

Neither of my friends look amused in the slightest. They simply grabbed their lunches and stood, walking off in separate directions in a grim, stony silence. They were definitely not over their argument of the weekend. I couldn't understand it- all they had been bickering about was that Terra was a little too obsessed with her crush on Gazzy. Was that enough to tear apart their friendship?

When I slid into my seat in art, Fang was already there doodling on his binder like any normal day. "How are you doing?" Fang asked casually, shooting a dark glance at a rather thoroughly pounded Dylan sitting in the front of the class.

"I'm okay," I sighed, plopping down into my seat beside Fang. He raised his eyebrows at me, and I sighed again. "Maybe not okay, but that's just because lunch was kind of suckish today. And when I say kind of suckish, I mean it was tense and confusing as hell."

"It's 'cause I wasn't there," Fang said knowingly. "I bring peace and harmony to all those around me- hey! Don't hit, Max," he grumbled. I laughed, pulling back my hand from where I had whapped his arm.

"Nudge, Terra, and Gazzy have some really strange shit going on," I remarked, leaning back in my chair. "Apparently Gazzy now hates Richie after his visit with him this morning."

"Odd," Fang replied absently, focusing on his drawing. "I thought Richie was a likeable dude."

"He can be annoying," I admitted, thinking back to some of my previous conversations with the man. "I've had disagreements with him before."

We had no more time to talk before Ms. Rykitel started class. Fang gave me a reassuring smile, and I just grinned back before focusing my attention on the art teacher.

That class was my last hour of peace before the shit really hit the fan.

I was heading outside with Iggy, Terra, Gazzy and Nudge, Fang once more nowhere to be found. Ella had forgotten something at her locker, and we were heading out to the front gate to wait for her before heading to the park to hang out. I don't remember how the conversation started. It was purely innocent, a remark something like how Fang and Iggy had finally gotten girlfriends and now it was Gazzy's turn.

Instead of laughing, Gazzy's face shut down. "Well, my single status isn't exactly my fault," he said tonelessly. Blue eyes searched our group, landing on a suddenly pale Nudge. "Is it, Nudge?"

"Gazzy, stop," Nudge ordered him, her expression guarded and words toneless. She looked drained, and it was obvious she was struggling to keep herself together.

Gazzy completely ignored all of us standing around him. "No Nudge, I can't stop," he snapped back, his voice strangely desperate. "I won't accept a 'no' when I know that's not what you really mean!"

Nudge glared at him. Or at least, she tried to glare at him. Her anger seemed fake and strained, and under the mask she was trying to wear I could sense a hopeless sort of despair. What the hell was going on here? "Gazzy, I told you no and I meant it," she hissed. "How would you know what I really feel?"

"I know," Gazzy insisted, his voice cracking suddenly. I could see Fang and Iggy wince out of the corner of my eye, and completely empathized with them. I had never seen Gazzy so vulnerable as this before. What was so important that he and Nudge had to talk about that they both sounded so determined about it?

"Don't talk about this now," Nudge snapped. "It's not right to discuss this in front of—"

"In front of who?" Gazzy interrupted, sounding angry. He took a step towards Nudge, who backed up a step in response. "Why are you so god damn stubborn about it?"

"Stubborn about what?" Iggy asked.

Nudge and Gazzy ignored him. They were only focused on each other, hollow brown eyes locked on determined blue ones. "In front of Terra!" Nudge yelled, her voice suddenly rocketing in volume. "She's my friend Gazzy! I can't do this to her!"

"I'm your best friend!" Gazzy retorted. "But you're doing this to me!"

"Doing what?" Terra asked, sounding extremely confused. "You can't do what to me?"

"Terrs, I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean this to happen," Nudge apologized desperately, her eyes switching frantically between Gazzy's sky blue and Terra's darker blue eyes. "Nothing is happening, and—"

"Nothing is happening because you won't let it happen!" Gazzy broke in. His fists were clenched at his sides, and every muscle in his body was strained to wiry tautness. "Nothing is happening because you're afraid to hurt Terra, but damn it Nudge, you're hurting me instead! You're hurting me so much more! Is it worth it?"

Nudge's eyes filled with tears at the harsh tone of Gazzy's voice. One slipped from her eye, snaking its way down her cheek and quivering in a single droplet at the corner of her lip. "I don't want to hurt anyone," she whispered brokenly.

The tear slipped off her lip and plummeted to the ground.

"But you are," Gazzy informed her coolly. His voice, so angry before, now sounded devoid of any emotion.

I felt like an intruder on this moment. I shouldn't be seeing this, I shouldn't be watching this fight. Suddenly, I felt claustrophobic in the open air. Why was I here? I had no part in this, so why was I here? All this emotion, all this anger— I wished very badly that Fang was here to lend me the reassurance of his strong presence.

"What the hell is going on?" Terra demanded, getting fed up with their indecipherable conversation and putting her hands on her hips. "What are you talking about? What's hurting me, and what's hurting Gazzy? What. Is. Wrong?"

Gazzy tore his eyes away from Nudge for a moment to stare at Terra, almost glaring at her. "Nudge doesn't want to hurt you, so she's hurting me instead," he explained cryptically, his tone alarmingly bitter. Terra looked shocked by the anger Gazzy was directing at her. I was shocked too— usually Gazzy was sunshine and laughter.

Right now he was deadly serious.

"Gazzy, don't say that!" Nudge begged, more tears leaking from her eyes.

"It's the truth," he told her stubbornly. "You made it that way Nudge, so I guess it sucks for you if you don't want to be called out on it."

"Gazzy, I-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Gazzy exploded, cutting Nudge off before she could get another word out. "There was always someone else Nudge, always. Damien Payne, Harry Carnell, Lou Milak, Nick Horan, Danny Armstrong! I can list more if you want. So excuse me for being angry, but it sucks that now there isn't another guy in the way, there's a girl!" Gazzy fumed visibly, his blue eyes sparking with anger.

Beside me, I could see Iggy noticeably straighten up, as if suddenly realizing something. Those names Gazzy rattled off meant nothing to me except for Danny's, but they obviously held some sort of meaning for Iggy. He had known Nudge for years more than me, so I trusted him to know what Gazzy was talking about. He looked like an idea about their argument was finally dawning on him.

Nudge's tears were coming thick now, but I was too paralyzed with confusion to go and help her. My mind was trying to catch up with events, but to no avail. I was utterly lost here. Heavy emotions were beyond me.

Well, heavy emotions other than blinding fury, but that's completely untwisted.

"I'm sorry Gazzy," she hiccuped finally. "I never knew- I never- and Terra- and you were always-"

"You know what?" Gazzy cut her off. "I'm done. I can't change your mind. Protect Terra all you want, Nudge. I won't bother you anymore." And with that, Gazzy turned on his heel and started to walk away.

Nudge stood frozen where she was, her eyes locked on Gazzy's back. Terra reached out as if to touch her shoulder, looking extremely confused. "Nudge, what's happening?" Terra asked gently, her face plain with anxiety and concern.

Nudge tore her gaze away from Gazzy, hesitating for a long moment. Then she stared longingly at Terra, as if trying to make her know her thoughts just through her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, regret plain in her voice. "But I can't do this to him. I tried to be a good friend to you Terra, but I can't do this to Gazzy."

"Do what to Gazzy?" Terra asked, obviously bewildered. "Nudge?"

But Nudge was gone. I could only stand and watch as Nudge ran towards Gazzy and spun him forcefully around in place. Gazzy looked a little surprised, but tried to cover it up with anger. "What are you-" he started to say, his voice filled with strained annoyance. I could instantly tell it was an act— he wasn't mad at Nudge anymore, he was only trying to be.

But Gazzy couldn't get any farther, because Nudge had latched onto him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she dug her head deep into his shoulder. Gazzy's hands flew automatically around her waist, and his face was full of shock. His angry mask was gone, and all that was left was surprise. "Nudge?" he asked quietly, his voice rougher than normal.

Then Nudge murmured a single, slow phrase, her voice low and thick as if she was holding back tears: "You aren't allowed to ever change your mind about me, not now that I've given in."

The change in Gazzy was instantaneous. His eyes, initially narrow and guarded, completely melted into something softer. The angry lines on his face smoothed out, and the tension drained from his body. Carefully, he pulled Nudge off his neck, holding her by the shoulders to see her face clearly.

He only whispered one word: "Finally."

Then Terra and I were left standing in utter bewilderment as Gazzy bent his head and kissed Nudge full on the lips.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Terra's eyes widen in shock. And when neither Gazzy nor Nudge pulled away from the kiss, Terra pulled a Max.

Before anyone could do or say anything, she turned tail and ran away.

I really hate Mondays.

**I almost broke my finger at soccer practice and this was super painful to type up. You wanna review to make me feel better? (: thank you guys for bearing with me! I love you all!**

**I'll try to get the next chapter up before May. (; oops.**

**~TMI~**


	43. Guys this was really bitchy ofme IMSORRY

I'm sorry.

I hate to try to shove the blame on someone else, but this is all James Patterson's fault.

What happened was… I read Nevermore.

And I was so horribly disgusted and appalled and horrified and distressed and completely and irrevocably disillusioned and upset with the fate of the MR series that I just couldn't write anymore.

Worst writer's block in the world. It physically hurt. I was so incredibly frustrated with myself, I couldn't think of anything at all. My mind was literally blank. I stared at a word doc with 300 words on it for literally a month without getting anywhere before I just gave up.

Then I was in Ireland last week playing soccer (which was flipping AWESOME btw), and consequently wasn't checking my email. I don't know if you guys secretly organized this or something but when I got home I literally had about 130 emails from Fanfiction of people favoriting and alerting and reviewing my whole collection, but mostly School Days. It was really, truly inspiring. I can't believe the dedication some people have, it makes me honored to be a humble little fanfiction writer who started off as a ridiculous newbie in sixth grade with a horrible cliché story and is now lucky enough to have readers like these. I'd like to thank two people in particular, **JayJay's-Pie-Stand **and **awkwardTurtle. eep** for kicking my butt in gear.

My plan now is to reread all of School Days and remind myself where I was taking the plot and what I was doing with the characters. I hope you'll pardon the wait. I will try my best to get up a chapter before August because really when it comes down to it I've been a total bitch. I let my anger and disappointment in James Patterson's version affect my own writing, and that's just not cool.

I'm sorry guys. Will you forgive me?

Love,

**~TMI~**


	44. Drama Drama Drama

**Haha, you thought I meant August 2013? Joke's on you guys…**

**Ok I'll stop making bad jokes now just read the story kay thanks (:**

Fang was right. I was an optimist.

Because I foolishly thought that maybe the clear issues of my friends might resolve themselves peacefully. Maybe everything would work out without a ton of loud, messy high school drama.

Haha. Yeah, right.

When Gazzy and Nudge showed no signs of releasing each other any time soon, I discreetly grabbed Iggy's wrist and tugged him away to try and find Terra. We wandered around the surrounding streets for about twenty minutes before receiving a confused text from Ella wondering where we were. We'd met back up with my sister at a little cafe, where I had promptly felt extremely awkward being a third wheel to their happy little couple and made a lame excuse to leave. They were a little nauseating to deal with without any backup, after all. It was my little sister!

I was walking back to my house by myself when I caught sight of a familiar figure all in black. A small smile sprang to my face as I saw Fang's smirking face appear around the corner from the direction of the school. He must have just finished that extra work on his project. I opened my mouth to yell out a rude (he would know it was actually affectionate) greeting when another figure turned the corner with him. It was Judy Suli, a girl knew only from Ms. James' homeroom. She was actually smiling brightly as Fang spoke, an expression I couldn't recall seeing on her face before. She was always wore a very neutral expression whenever I saw her at school, and I knew that she was a fairly quiet kid.

Come to think of it, I couldn't remember ever hearing her voice before. All I recalled of past encounters with Judy included my first day, when Ms. James had moved me into Lissa's seat and Lissa into Judy's.

_Lissa stalked over to the seat Miss James had indicated for her. A small Asian girl was sitting in it, and she looked timidly up at Lissa, who was scowling at her. "Move it, Suli," Lissa growled. The girl immediately grabbed her things and jumped out of the chair._

She definitely hasn't been smiling then, but then again, I didn't blame her.

Although it was completely irrational, I started feeling extremely insecure.

Fang caught my eye, raising an eyebrow as he half-smiled in my direction. I belatedly realized that his bemusement and amusement probably stemmed from the fact that I was standing stock still in the middle of the road with a really dumb look on my face. It probably seemed as if a local asylum had misplaced an intensive care patient on Main Street. He started in my direction, Judy following shyly behind him like the shadow of a shadow.

I tried valiantly to pull myself together into a vaguely normal appearance as the two approached. The day had greatly shaken me up, what with my Monday Blues premonitions being completely spot on, as well as discovering that two of my best friends who I spent the majority of my time with had apparently been aching after each other without me noticing. Not to mention the fist fight in the hall, being manhandled by Dylan, my horribly aching ankle and back, and the fact that I was starving. I suppose it was just lucky that Anne had canceled practice today, because otherwise there'd be some serious drama messing with the work ethic. My boyfriend, who had been missing most of the day and who I had been sorely missing just a little while before when dealing with three of my friends in a huge secret argument, was walking toward me with another girl. I wasn't panicking, of course not. Not at all. Nope. Nope nope nope nope-

While I had been calmly thinking all of this through, Fang and Judy had made their way over to me. Judy's smile was now completely gone, and instead I was greeted with the quiet, slightly intimidated look that I was much more used to seeing on her face. "Hey Max," Fang greeted me, seeming completely normal. "What are you up to?" He glanced around, possibly to see if I was the only Looney Tune lurking about.

I couldn't help but look between him and Judy a couple more times. "I thought you were working on your English project?" I blurted out. I winced immediately, shutting my mouth firmly and internally cringing at my inelegance. The way that had come out sounded almost accusing.

The tiniest hint of surprise fought its way past Fang's mask, but then he just shut it down and raised an eyebrow at me. "What?"

I could feel myself start to blush, and couldn't help but glance back between him and Judy again. Hell, I'd already dug myself into this hole. I might as well see what was going on and satisfy my insecure curiosity. "You said that you were working on your English project today, at lunch and after school," I clarified, trying my best to meet his eyes without giving away any of the jealousy that was starting to simmer inside of me. I glanced at Judy again, noting her silky black hair tied up in a cute flippy little bun thing, the subtle-yet-chic makeup, her entirely not sporty and not wildly thrown together outfit. Basically, she was everything that I was not. That was enough basis for insecurity, in my opinion.

Judy refused to look me in the eye. That was another addition to my growing insecurity- was she hiding something?

"Yeah, I was," Fang confirmed, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to figure out where I was going with this. "We're kinda behind because I haven't had the most flexible schedule lately, so we had to work pretty fast since it's due tomorr-"

"We?" I interrupted, then immediately cursed myself in my head. Fang was starting to look less confused and more annoyed by my idiocy, and I couldn't stop either the insecure feeling growing in my chest or the blush spreading across my face.

"We," Fang repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing. "As in, Judy and I. We're partners on this project."

I looked back at Judy again, who still refused to meet my eyes. Her backpack was indeed slung across her shoulders, and in her hand was a copy of _Othello_. "Oh," was all I could manage to say. "Cool."

Damn, where was my gold sticker for supreme eloquence? I sure deserved one right now.

"Are you okay?" Fang asked, reaching out to touch my arm. I flinched slightly, my bad ankle twitching and a sudden spasm of pain running down my back. Fang drew back, looking hurt for a millisecond before his brick wall mask took over. "Oh," was all he said, his face closing down as he looked away from me."

"Fang, I…" I just trailed off though, unable to voice anything I was feeling or thinking. "I'm confused."

"Yeah?" he said, his voice toneless. "Me too."

The three of us stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do that wouldn't cause any more harm or tension. This was my fault. I really, really was not good in social situations, not even with someone who tended to completely understand me, apparently. "I have to go," I said suddenly, the panic and insecurity and jealousy building up enough where it was all looking to boil over. And with no more explanation than that, I turned on my good heel and went limping off down the street as fast as I could go.

And Fang didn't try to follow me.

I tried not to let that hurt as much as I knew it would if I thought about it. Even if he was the first one who'd ever made a real, honest attempt to follow me when I was trying to escape them, he definitely hadn't shown me that he would do it every time. Quite the contrary, really. I tried not to think about what he might be saying to Judy, trying to explain away his insane girlfriend. It was ridiculous to be jealous that he was with her. Right? They were partners on a project. How much had I ever seen him talk to her before?

Then again, whenever he wasn't talking to me in homeroom, he was always talking to Judy instead. And she used to sit right in front of him before I arrived at Cromwell. Was it possible?...

No. No it wasn't.

I walked a little faster, trying to outstrip my thoughts. I was getting paranoid because of all the other Monday Blues crap that had gone down today. This wasn't a legitimate reason to freak out. I was only freaking out because I was in a freaking out mood. Right?

Right.

That had to be right.

"Maxikins," a voice greeted me, stopping me in my tracks. The voice of the last person in the world that I wanted to meet right now. "How are _you _doing today?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to breathe in deeply as I opened them again to see not only Max II, but also Dylan, Frida, and… Terra?

The surprise probably showed on my face more than it came out in my voice as I replied, but I wasn't sure if that fact really helped me at all right now. "Why would you like to know?" I responded, my voice just as sweet and false as Max II's had been.

"You look a little…" Max II paused delicately, and his cronies snickered. Terra just looked stony, avoiding my eyes in favor of glaring at the floor. "Nonplussed." He stood up from the small café table he had been lounging at, approaching me with an unreadable look on his face. I still couldn't help but think about Mike as I stared at his face, but I tried not to let it affect me too much. Max was not Mike.

"I certainly hope your ankle isn't giving you too much trouble," Frida offered innocently, before flashing me a nasty smile. I smiled just as acridly back at her, unwilling to let my tough shell crack any further in front of these people.

"In fact, I just got off crutches, thanks for asking," I informed her, my voice still saturated with an overly sugary tone. "I should be back on the field in no time."

"How wonderful to hear!" Max II exclaimed, coming closer. I eyed him warily, but that didn't stop him from clapping a hand across my back. I couldn't help but gasp as his hand seemed to press on every achingly sore muscle and tendon at once. It was like he knew exactly where to hit to find the weak and sensitive places. "Oh no, are you okay, Maxi?" he asked, his voice filled with overly dramatized shock. "I thought you were basically as good as new!"

"Get off me," I growled, viciously shrugging his arm off of my body. "Just 'cuz your girlfriend thinks she can get away with injuring me doesn't mean that sort of thinking is a good idea, Maxi."

Frida smiled poisonously, batting her eyelashes at me before turning her gaze to fastidiously study her manicure. I snorted in her general direction, then noticed Dylan again. His eyes were fixed on me- at least, the eye he could see out of. Gazzy had bashed him pretty damn thoroughly, and it was clear that he would take a little while to heal fully. I didn't like the way he was looking at me though, especially considering the reason that Gazzy had felt the need to pound him. "What are you looking at, Gunther?" I demanded sharply, stepping away from Max II's reach in case he tried to touch my back again.

Dylan just smiled at me, and I noticed a new chip on one of his perfect teeth. I made a mental note to never get in a serious fight with Gazzy, ever, then focused back on the problem at hand. "Just wondering where your perfect boyfriend is," he replied smoothly, not sounding put out in the least by my less than friendly tone.

Something in him had changed; the innocent, easily startled kid I had met in homeroom such a short time ago was nowhere to be found in this dangerous, cheating punk I now saw before me. The same turquoise eyes stared at me, the same blonde hair was perfectly and effortlessly styled on his head, the same kind of clothes covered his body, and the same silver bracelet glittered on his wrist. But who really was this homeschooled mystery? I hadn't wanted to know, but now I was starting to feel like that had been a dangerous mistake.

And I had to admit, he knew exactly which button to press to get to me. Even more effectively than Max II prodding my literal sore spots, Dylan didn't even have to probe to get directly to my biggest emotional weak spot. "Doing his schoolwork, a feat that you three probably can't wrap your heads around," I snapped. My eyes went almost involuntarily to Terra next as I thought about the reason I'd left her out of that barb. Why was she hanging around with people like Dylan, Max II and Frida? I had never seen her talk to any of them before, nor had she ever mentioned them except in context with something one of our friends had mentioned about them.

"What are you looking at?" Terra muttered, glaring back at me when she noticed my eyes on her. I couldn't help but recoil from her bitter tone, shocked at the way she was acting. She laughed shortly, seeing my surprise. "Come on, Max, you have to admit that I have every right to be pissed at all of you after Nudge-" She stopped halfway through her sentence, blue eyes narrowing with anger and betrayal. "I bet you all knew that they liked each other, but no one was going to tell me," she bit out. "No, just let Terra embarrass herself in front of two of the people she thought were her best friends!"

"Terrs, it wasn't like that," I tried to say, reaching out to do who knew what. Maybe I was planning on the comforting shoulder touch or something, but Terra jerked viciously away from me, leaving me with my arm extended helplessly in midair. I slowly retracted it, unable to stop staring at her. "So you're convinced we all conspired against you?" I asked, trying to make it sound like it was a ridiculous idea.

Terra glared back at me again, deadly serious. "What are friends for?" she replied, her voice just as toneless as mine had been. "Max was right," she said abruptly, glancing back at Max II. "You guys have your own little circle. You, Gazzy, Fang, Iggy, and Nudge. The perfect little _angels_, with your perfect little group. Yeah, you let people like your sister in, and sometimes Matt or Jake or Vlasis, and I _thought_ me too… but it really all boils back down to you five in the end." I couldn't look away as Terra laughed again, the harsh, short sound nothing at all like the happy giggles I was used to hearing from her. Something had snapped for her when Gazzy and Nudge had very visibly shown their feelings for each other, and it looked like it had been something important.

"That's not how we are, Terra," I insisted, feeling a little desperate to convince her otherwise. How could she think that? "You're our friend."

"Friends don't lie to their friends about how they feel about the guy who their friend _is in love with!"_ Terra's voice rose almost uncontrollably, getting shriller and faster as she went on. "Friends don't scoff at their friend's feelings behind the friend's back! Friends don't leave each other out of the loop on important things like, I don't know, all of you did to me!"

I just stood there and stared at her. "That is not what happened," was all I could manage to say.

"Denial seems to be all that you're good at doing, Max," Max II observed, breaking my focus away from Terra. "If you're so insistent that what Terra's saying isn't true, why don't you just tell her what did happen instead of just disagreeing over and over?"

I glared at him. "I don't owe you an explanation," I snapped, a flare of anger livening my clouded mind for a moment. "I don't owe you anything!"

Max II just smiled, steepling his fingers as he raised his eyebrows at me. "Do you?" he asked simply.

_Mike._

I set my jaw, my fists clenching as an overwhelmingly helpless feeling took over my whole body. What the hell had I gotten myself into here? Why was I alone, facing three of my least favorite people in this entire city and a girl who clearly hated me at the moment?

Dylan stood up, stepping closer. I glanced between him and Max II, feeling trapped by them on either side of me and the street behind me. It was quite a crowded little space on the sidewalk, boxed into the two feet between the outdoor café tables and curb. "You don't look like you're doing so good," Dylan said quietly, his face completely serious and void of any trace of flirtation or malice. "Let me make sure you get home okay. You're obviously not fully healed yet."

I just stared at him. "I don't want you to walk me home," I said flatly.

His expression didn't change at my blunt refusal. "I know," was his surprisingly even reply. "I'm not looking to walk you home. I'll walk ten feet behind you if that's what you want. But you don't seem completely on right now, and I don't want you to get hurt."

I hated myself for it, but I felt like I was starting to waver. Who was this guy? He had been a complete and utter asshole this morning, and I hadn't forgiven him for his shitty treatment of Nudge as a girlfriend. But I couldn't deny that I had been intensely rude to him without much reason other than an immediate, not necessarily deserved dislike. Although I still considered him a total jerk for everything he had done to Nudge, I trusted him more than Max II or Frida or even Terra not to hurt me while I was down.

It wasn't like Fang was here to help me, anyway.

"Fine," I muttered. "Ten feet behind me is good." I ignored the flicker of genuine, hopeful surprise on his face, like he had expected me to stomp him underfoot instead. "Bye Terra. I hope you realize that we aren't as cliqueish as you seem to think we are," I said softly. "You're still my friend until you make me an enemy." I turned to give Frida and Max II one last glance. "I don't know what you two are up to, but I hope you're very happy together."

Then I turned around and walked away, not checking to see if Dylan was following. Pain was lancing through my back even more after Max II's rough treatment of my sore spots, and I couldn't help but limp on my bad ankle, even though I had been told not to do so. To top it all off, I was developing a lovely headache from all the assorted horrible things that had happened today.

"How are you doing?" Dylan asked from behind me. I didn't turn around, resolving that I didn't want to talk to him, even if I had caved on letting him make sure I could get home without any more trouble. I wasn't completely sure why I had allowed him to in the first place, besides a sudden feeling of misgiving about judging him so quickly at our first meeting.

"Okay, you don't have to answer. I get why you don't want to talk to me," Dylan acknowledged. "I was an absolute asshole in the way I treated Nudge."

I refrained from agreeing. Just barely. I figured if I was going to try not to judge him undeservedly, I should attempt not to be my normal derisive self and say rude things to provoke him.

"I know you don't like me. I'm not sure why you didn't at the beginning, since I hadn't done anything bad to you," Dylan started again, his voice more subdued than usual. I couldn't help but listen. "But now I definitely deserve it after cheating on Nudge and everything. I don't know what came over me… but, I've never had any girl interested in me before. I didn't know how to handle it."

I couldn't help but snort at that one. "You've never had a girl interested in you?"

"I had a very… sheltered life," Dylan said, sounding surprised that I had even replied at all. "I told you I was homeschooled. I really only had one friend before I came to Cromwell, and then suddenly everyone wanted to talk to me. And Nudge wanted to talk to me a lot. I guess I confused flattery and excitement with feelings for her. And after we already started going out I had no idea how to stop except to make her want to break up with me."

"Well you didn't have to cheat on her!" I snapped, although the bite was starting to leave my voice almost involuntarily.

"I know!" he snapped back, but with a much more embarrassed tone. "I know. It was stupid. But I'm not exactly socially graceful. I made mistakes. But before that all I could really be accused of would be being annoying, and you have to admit that around me you seem to be very easily annoyed. So I'm sorry for everything."

"The one you should be apologizing to-" I started.

"Is Nudge, I know, I know," Dylan finished, sounding defeated. "You told me that already. I'm sorry I grabbed you, by the way. As soon as I did that I realized I made a mistake, but again…"

"You had no idea how to fix it so you waited for someone else to," I supplied. "Someone else in the form of Danny Armstrong throwing you into a bank of lockers and Gazzy Richards beating the crap out of you for your first mistake."

Dylan laughed shortly. "Sounds about right," he agreed. "I will apologize to Nudge if Gazzy ever lets me within fifty feet of her again, okay?"

I couldn't help but laugh a little at the thought of how protective Gazzy would be. "Okay, I can accept that," I sighed.

"Thank you for letting me explain, Max," Dylan said softly. The sudden change of tone immediately put me back on high alert. It was okay for him to explain about Nudge, but now he was making it sound like he was explaining only for my benefit. That was not okay with me.

So me being me, I picked up the pace as much as I could and didn't respond. An injured Max's version of running away.

We walked the rest of the way in silence, Dylan presumably watching to make sure I didn't suddenly fall down and die or something of the kind. I stumbled a few times, usually more because of the pain in my back than my actually incapacitated ankle. Every time I did, I heard the scuff of sneakers on pavement that indicated he had hurried forward to help before dropping silently back again. I had to admit that I appreciated he actually stayed ten feet behind me the whole time instead of pushing the boundary.

I couldn't help but wonder where Fang was, and what he would think if he saw this strange interaction taking place. It didn't take very long before we passed his house, and I couldn't help but look cautiously in its direction. I felt like I had to make sure I wasn't getting caught- which was ridiculous, considering that Dylan and I weren't actually speaking and he was a safe distance behind me. To most people it probably didn't even look like we were together, besides the fact that he was following me so consistently.

When I got to the fence bordering my front yard, I stopped and turned around. Dylan stopped too, still approximately ten feet away. He was like a dependable little puppy, eager to please and sticking to directions.

I felt distinctly uncomfortable with that analogy.

"So, uh, this is my house," I stated, not really sure what else to say. "Thank you for…" For making sure I didn't trip and die? For explaining his shitty behavior to Nudge? For apologizing to me for being someone who inexplicably annoyed me? "…for doing that," I finished lamely.

Dylan half smiled, his eyes locked on mine. "Thank you for letting me," he replied simply, not bothering to clarify what I meant.

I nodded awkwardly, still unsure of what to do. "I guess this means I shouldn't be as rude to you, even if you have assholes for friends."

Dylan winced, and I instantly felt bad again for immediately insulting him right after deciding I should be nicer. "Look, I know you and Max and Frida aren't on the best terms-" I couldn't help but snort at that careful wording, but Dylan ignored me. "-but they're my friends for better or worse," Dylan sighed. "And you know Terra isn't an asshole. She's just confused about her priorities."

"I'll say," I muttered. "How can she accuse me of keeping Nudge and Gazzy's mutual interest from her? I get told almost daily that I have no grasp on people's feelings."

Dylan smiled again. "Just try not to be too self-righteous, okay?" he suggested. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he stood his ground. "Come on Max, you know what I mean."

"I am not self-righteous!" I insisted.

"Max." He was annoyingly unresponsive to my decisiveness.

"I'm not!"

"Max, I'm not going to argue with you," Dylan replied calmly.

"You are arguing, right now!" Now I just felt like I was whining, but what else could I do?

"No, I said your name," he corrected me. "You don't have to agree with me, but I'm sure you have to have at least an idea of what I'm talking about." Dylan glanced around, apparently just as unsure as I was of what to do next. "Anyway… I'm glad you're safe," he said seriously. "And try not to let Max II get too close to you. He's way too good at finding people's weak spots, and you don't need the extra stress."

I stared at him, wondering what deity had decided to screw around with me today. "Thanks," was all I could manage to say. "I'll keep that in mind."

Dylan nodded just one too many times, glanced around again, and turned as if to walk back down the street. "Well, I should get going. Curfew and all," he said awkwardly.

"Curfew?" I couldn't help but ask. "It's barely even four."

Dylan smiled again, but this time it was a little tighter, a little more cynical. He looked closer to the punk this morning than the guy who willingly followed ten feet behind me all the way to my house to make sure I didn't hurt myself any further. "You don't wanna know the rules at my house," was all he said in response. "Later, Max."

"Bye." I watched as he walked a couple steps down the sidewalk, then turned to open my front gate. I heard his footsteps halt, and involuntarily whirled back around to look at him again. "What?" I demanded.

"Nothing," Dylan assured me quickly, looking startled at my vehemence. "Just checking to make sure you got to the door."

I looked away from him again. "Oh. Okay." I made the small trip from my front gate to front door without any mishaps, then turned back to see him still standing there. "I'm fine," I said, curling my hand around the doorknob. "Thanks again."

"No problem," he replied, turning around again. "It's my pleasure."

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I didn't. Instead, I opened the door and stepped inside my house.

Who was waiting for me but my very own, elusive boyfriend?

"Was that Dylan?" was his first, quiet question. Fang pushed himself off the couch with his usual grace, heading toward me. Instead of his usual move to touch me in some way- hand, arm, chin- he just stood stiffly in front of me.

"Yeah," I said, just as quietly. All of the turmoil of the day was starting to exhaust me. I didn't know what to do next. "Where did Judy go?"

"She had swim practice," Fang informed me. "Do you not like her?"

The direct question woke me up a little. "I have nothing against Judy," I told him honestly. "I was just… surprised. I thought you were spending all that time working on your project by yourself."

"It was a partnered project, Max," Fang said gently. I could see the confusion and hesitation in his body language, even if he managed to keep the emotions off of his face. "I told you about it."

I frowned, wondering if he was right. "I seem to remember you saying in homeroom that you needed to talk to her about a math project, but that was awhile ago," I countered. "Do you just partner for every project?"

"Usually, actually," Fang confirmed. I couldn't help but let my eyebrows raise at this confession, unsure how to feel about it. "If we have a project in English I try to partner with Iggy or Judy, and this time it happened to be Judy. And she's one of the only people in my math class I can deal with for prolonged periods at a time."

I didn't really have a response to that. She was a nice girl, from what I could tell. Not once had I seen her try to flirt with Fang, or anyone else for that matter. She was even quieter than he was and kept mostly to herself, but was clearly an intelligent individual. I could see where Fang would like to work with her.

I had just gotten really absurdly jealous at the thought that he had been with her three different times today when I needed him. And why did I suddenly depend on his presence so much, anyway? I was Maximum Ride! I could handle myself in a few dramatic situations.

"Max?"

I snapped out of my thoughts only to find Fang looking worriedly at me. "Sorry," I murmured. "I'm just so out of it today. It's just-"

"Monday blues?" he finished, smiling a tiny bit.

I couldn't help but smile in response. He knew me too well. "Yeah," I admitted. "Sorry I reacted so badly to seeing you with her. It was uncalled for. I was just in a bad mood and had the worst feelings come over me when I saw you two…" I trailed off, fighting the urge to look away as I tried to confess my stupid weakness. "I just, missed you today. I got into some bad situations that I wished you were around to help me through."

"Bad situations?" Fang repeated, moving closer. The awkward wall between us seemed to evaporate as I could almost feel his protectiveness flare. "Like what?"

I sighed, letting him pull me into his arms. My mind was just too frazzled to deal with anything anymore. "Drama at lunch. Drama after school. More drama after school," I murmured into his shoulder. "Oh, and apparently Gazzy and Nudge have the hots for each other. Who woulda thunk?"

Fang was quiet for a moment, stroking carefully over my sore back. "Care to specify?" he asked quietly, his face pressing into my hair.

"Not really," I yawned, suddenly exhausted. "Can I tell you later? I'm pretty much done with everything right now. Like, figuratively done. Not literally. I have so much homework from Ms. Hell to finish still. It's a good thing Anne canceled practice." I yawned again, snuggling deeper into his shoulder. Fang was a comfy pillow. "Or maybe it's a bad thing. 'Cause all that bad drama happened. And Terra hates us all now, just letting you know. And Dylan isn't that much of an asshole, he walked all the way home ten feet behind me to make sure I didn't hurt myself."

"Max, I think you're babbling," Fang murmured back to me, sounding somewhat amused. "Do you wanna go take a nap or something?"

"Not when you're here," I yawned again. A vague question occurred to me, and I worked patiently to get it out of my mouth. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see what was up when I met you with Judy," he replied. "Come here, maybe you'll wake up with something to eat."

I followed wherever his arms were taking me. I trusted Fang, after all, with anything. "I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"You said that already," Fang reminded me, sitting me down somewhere stable. "It's okay. I'm sorry I left you alone today. That was really crappy of me to do to you, and you didn't deserve it."

"Thanks, Fang," I murmured, smiling happily. I set my head down on another stable surface right in front of me. Perfect.

"Max, you said you didn't want to sleep." Fang's voice sounded from somewhere nearby, still sounding amused.

"I don't want to deal with anything else that might happen today though," I moaned, snuggling my face into the hard, smooth surface.

Fang didn't reply, but a couple minutes later something hot was placed gently in front of me. I felt my hand being picked up and wrapped around the hot object. "Max, drink this," he instructed.

I attempted to lift my head, but it didn't work. "Fang, I think I broke my neck," I whined. "It isn't workinggggggg."

"Let me help," he offered. Even in my current state I could almost hear the smirk in his voice. In a moment, I felt myself being lifted from the chair, with all of the horrible plummeting feelings that came with being carried.

"Faaaaaaanngggggg," I whined. "You knooowww I hate being picked uppp."

"It's okay," he assured me, "it's just for a second. See?" I felt myself being wrapped in his arms, then settled back down on a much comfier surface. "Drink the tea, Max."

My eyes shot open as a hot surface met my lips. I almost sprayed all of the tiny sip of tea I had managed to take in as I jolted back to consciousness. "Fang!"

"You awake?" he asked, his tone seemed a bit too even.

It was then that I realized that what had seemed like a warm chair with a seatbelt to my sleepy mind was actually Fang's lap with his arm wrapped firmly around my waist. I twisted to glare at him. "You are getting way too comfortable with manhandling me, mister," I informed him. Then my mind seemed to wake up, and I realized something much more important. "That tea was really good," I remarked, reaching for the mug again. "Damn, Fang, you just have more and more hidden talents."

"What can I say?" he murmured into my neck, his arms tightening around my waist. I couldn't help but shiver, but it was the best kind of shiver that I had ever experienced. I took another sip of tea as Fang continued: "I'm an enigma."

"You're my enigma," I replied, nudging him with my elbow as I downed the tea. "Stay that way, mmkay?"

"Of course," Fang agreed. "Don't worry Max, no one could make me stay away from you."

"No one?"

"No one."

**Someone's POV**

"So did it work?"

The boy sighed, looking away.

"I said, _did it work_?" The voice got sharper.

The boy glared at the floor. "Yes, it worked," he confirmed. "It worked very effectively."

"Good."

There was silence, broken only by the sound of keys clicking away, new information being inputted to the files.

"Also, we gained a sympathizer today," the other boy said.

The keys stopped clicking. "A sympathizer?" The man asked, his voice smooth and unreadable.

"Yes. She feels betrayed and discarded by almost the entire group of subjects. She will prove useful."

There was a moment of silence as the man thought this over. "That may be useful indeed," he acknowledged at last. The keys started clicking again.

The boys sat there in silence, waiting for the next order.

"Continue your previous orders. Stay low until commands change."

"Yes sir."

"Yes… sir."

**Haha… hi.**

**Can anyone say aca-awkward? Ahaha…haha…ha…**

**I'd like to give a rousing THANK YOU to several people: MaximumRider99, iluviggyhesthebest, and ArtificiallyIntelligent! Thank you for your support and buttkicking that helped me update this story at long last! and thank you to everyone else who reviewed and alerted and favorited even when it looked like nothing else was coming! You're all so amazing!**

**I'm not really sure how I feel about School Days still… it's my baby, but there's still so much plot left… will it be worth it, guys? Let me know.**

**Love you all! (: Review please?**

**~TMI~**


	45. Tomorrow May Suck but Today Does Not

**I was surprised at how vehemently some of you fought for another chapter. I'll admit that I half expected everyone to be done with this after the yearlong hiatus (: **

**I'll be honest with you guys: I'm afraid that updating won't come easy to me after all this time. More than one of you asked for an update within a week, and I kinda blanched like "wait am I actually expected to do that."**

**let's put it this way: I'm going to be a junior this year, taking two APs, honors calculus, and journalism plus three other classes. I'm in an orchestra, jazz band, multiple choirs, and play club soccer, trumpet and piano. And I'm a procrastinator like crazy. So that isn't the best combination for an oft-updating FF writer. /: I'll do my very best, although I'll admit I need a kick in the ass every now and then.**

**enough with the AN! Here you go (: enjoy.**

Fang and I were lying sprawled across the bean bags in my room, staring wordlessly up at the blank white ceiling. Officially, we were doing homework, but it was after soccer practice (for Fang, at least) on a Wednesday night and frankly, neither of us felt very motivated to explore the exciting world of logarithms and the history of early native peoples and had stopped working approximately half an hour ago.

"Fang?"

He grunted in response, twiddling his pencil between two fingers as he gazed intently up at the wonders of slightly bumpy plaster.

I took that as encouragement to continue speaking. "Do you think I'll get to play soon?"

He glanced at me carefully, his long black hair poofed out in a stark contrast to the light blue material of my bean bag. "For the Lynxes?" he clarified.

"Yeah."

We lay there in silence for a moment as Fang thought about his answer. I honestly didn't really know what to expect him to say. He wouldn't sugarcoat the truth if he thought it was bad, but would be reluctant to dash my hopes at the same time.

I glanced down at the bandages swathed around my right ankle and tried not to groan in frustration. It felt a lot better after the two weeks offand I no longer needed crutches or the boot, but I was notorious for going back to playing from injuries too early. I trusted Fang's opinion more than my own on this one.

"I think that even if you feel ready, Anne's going to make you practice at least a couple times before she lets you play in a game," Fang replied quietly. "Like, maybe you would be ready for tomorrow's game, but she won't let you just go straight back into it even if she wanted to have you there."

This time I did groan, flopping around to display my displeasure at this probably very accurate guess. The only sounds were Fang's quiet breathing and the crackly shifting of the bean bags.

"I feel fine now," I said, trying to sound convincing.

"I believe you," Fang replied calmly, turning on his side to look over at me. I met his gaze, searching his dark eyes to make sure he wasn't being sarcastic. He wasn't, thankfully. This was actually a really serious matter to me, and I was glad he understood that he shouldn't take it lightly.

"And Ella's wrist is basically healed, so she gets to go back to playing tomorrow," I sighed, a little envious of my younger sister. Of course I was thrilled that she was healed now, but still, she would be on the field and I would be unwillingly gracing the bench.

"She also has been playing in most of the practices still, since she could run and keep her wrist protected," Fang reminded me. "The only thing she wasn't doing was full contact stuff. And now she can, so she's game ready. You, however, are not."

"Stop being logical," I moaned, burying my face into my bean bag's silvery material. I kicked the air in halfhearted defiance, scrunching up my nose as my back twinged in protest. My ankle, however, felt completely fine. Or maybe not _completely_ fine, but at least 90 percent there. "I hate it when you out-logic me."

"It's okay, I know you still love me," he replied, his tone just oozing with self-assurance. I raised my face from the bean bag, glaring at him with enough force to shrivel a weaker soul than he. Fang, however, was unfortunately strong against my powers of glaring, and seemed unaffected. "Think on the bright side," he offered, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. I instantly went on the defensive, suspicious of anything he might say with that uncharacteristically impish look on his face. "At least tomorrow I'll have my number one fan on my bench cheering for me. How great will that be?"

I snarled, hurling my previously discarded pencil at him. Fang swatted it away with annoyingly good reflexes though, so I continued to launch various homework items his way. My bent notebook, a tattered novel, the biggest shred of eraser I could find, my history textbook- I went on till I couldn't find any more ammo. When none of this seemed to faze him very much (except the textbook- that one caught him pretty good in the stomach for a moment) I growled and shot to my feet, simultaneously pleased with the ability to balance fairly painlessly on my right foot and filled with the necessary rage to grab my bean bag and launch both it and myself on top of a very surprised Fang.

"What is wrong with you?" he wheezed, his startled voice muffled from underneath the silver bean bag currently pressed over the majority of his body. I pressed it down with my elbows, using all of the body weight I could muster up as I pinned him down as best I could with my knees.

"I am not your cheerleader!" I growled, digging into the bean bag even more. He struggled against my attack, squirming to attempt to escape and breathe and stuff like that.

"Max, good cheerleaders don't murder their idols," he chided, somehow still bent on messing with me even though I was pretty sure he was losing air quickly down there.

I let out a sound somewhere between a pterodactyl shriek and lion roar, firmly deciding that he was going to die for that one. "Why do I put up with you?" I hissed, fighting to keep his struggling body under control of the bean bag. My arms were starting to shake with the effort of keeping him oxygen-deprived.

To my immense dismay, Fang finally got the bright idea of rolling over, sending me toppling to the hardwood floor with a painful smack and embarrassingly loud squeal. Thankfully, Ella and Mom were out picking up the pizza for dinner, and were not around to witness that.

Fang ripped the silver bean bag out of my grasp, pinning me down so I couldn't scratch his eyes out or something equally as violent that I might regret later. He leaned down really close to my face, still fighting to keep me disarmed…

…and smiled.

A real, toothy, truly happy, utterly unusual and extremely gorgeous smile that was a completely unfair weapon against me in my wild righteous fury.

"Damn you," I breathed, feeling all of the fight drain out of me as I stared up at him, mind going a teeny bit- alright, completely and utterly- blank. "You should not be allowed to win like that. It's not sportsmanlike."

"What do they say in that book you have?" Fang breathed back, jerking his head somewhere behind him to the mess of scholarly projectiles I had fired at him before. "All's fair in love and war."

"Is this love or war?" I asked, smiling a little bit back at him. The unusual smile that had so easily calmed me down had dimmed into one that was slightly more normal but just as beautiful coming from him, and I felt happy lying there on the hard, uncomfortable floor of my bedroom with him.

Fang quirked an eyebrow at me. "Are you saying it's not both when it comes to us?" he retorted. "'Cause somehow, I always tend to get the feeling that it is."

"I have no idea what you mean," I said sweetly, fluttering my eyelashes up at him and conveniently ignoring the localized warzone scattered around us.

Fang laughed, the sound making my smile turn up a little more at the edges, and leaned down to kiss me. My smile widened even more as our lips met, and I tried to tug my hands out from under his pinning to touch him. He wouldn't let me go though, his mouth just barely pressed against mine, but lingering long enough to start driving me a little insane with each calm, soft brush of our lips.

I struggled a little harder, straining to press up into a full kiss, but Fang pulled back slightly to keep the pressure the same: light as a feather, barely there at all. I let out a noise of frustration, and he laughed softly, the sound vibrating against my lips and making me shiver. I opened my eyes to find him gazing down at me with amusement written clearly on his face, unmoved by my reactions to his teasing. He was toying with me, wanting to see what I would do next.

So I laid still for a moment, staring unblinkingly into his eyes, and pulled back from his mouth. He followed carefully, keeping the light, insane touch the same while watching out for any sudden movements from me to trick him. We stared at each other, breathing shallowly.

Then, without moving my head, I poked my tongue out of my mouth and licked him straight across the lips.

He recoiled slightly in shock, and I took the opening to surge up against him and kiss him hard, yanking my arms out from under his and using them to push him down. Fortunately for him, he slammed into one of my bean bags instead of the floor like I had. Fang didn't seem to care either way though, pulling me into his lap as we kept kissing.

"Don't tease me like that," I ordered him harshly in between kisses, digging my fingers into his hair.

Fang's mouth curved up in a slight smile. "I don't know," he replied, his words breathier and deeper than normally. "I kind of like this reaction."

I snorted and tried to pull back, but he just wrapped his arms around my waist, his fingers slipping onto the skin poking out from under my shirt. I shivered lightly, giving up on any sense of revenge and giving in instead to the moment. I'd let Fang win this time.

I snuck my hands under the hem of his loose black t shirt, a jolt of excitement shooting through my body as I felt the warm skin of his hips under my fingertips. Fang pressed me a little closer, and I ran my hands further up his sides in return. I could feel the slight curve of his torso and the solid path of his ribcage, the hem of his shirt catching on my wrists as my hands went further up. After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes locked with mine as he took the fabric piled around my wrists and pulled the shirt completely off of his head.

He shook his hair out like a wet dog as I sat in his lap and stared at the smooth olive skin of his chest and shoulders. I reached out carefully and curled my hand around his warm shoulder, and that seemed to be enough for Fang to pull me close and press our lips together again. His hands smoothed comfortingly over my back, making me forget about any stiffness or pain there. All I could feel was the overwhelmingly good presence of Fang.

"I do love you," he murmured against my mouth, his hands sliding up the skin of my back, bumping slowly and lightly over each vertebra with warm tingles. His fingers were approaching the bottom edge of my bra with what should have been alarming speed, but I couldn't quite bring myself to care. This was Fang. Not Sam. Not Omega. Not anyone who would hurt me. I trusted him not to hurt me.

"I love you too, Fang," I whispered back. He breathed in a little more sharply than necessary as my hands smoothed over his chest, and I squirmed with inward delight that I could make him react like that. So much for his brick wall persona.

My shirt had been bunching around his wrists just like his had on mine, and we only had to look at each other for a split second before he pulled it over my head and tossed it to the side. I watched his face as his eyes flitted over my torso, my hands twitching slightly as I fought the urge to grab my shirt back and tug it furiously over my head. The self-consciousness melted away, however, when Fang met my eyes again, and whispered, "You really can't know how beautiful you are."

It was like he had washed a warm wave through my system: I immediately relaxed, feeling the giddy happiness that I would normally not allow to go too far take over my body as a whole. "You really can't know how completely amazing you are," I whispered back.

His response was his lips on my neck and hands on my waist. I pressed against him, not caring that the only thing between our torsos was my highly unattractive bra. It was old and worn and a plain navy blue, fraying on the straps and not the teeniest bit sexy at all. Ella probably had way more attractive underwear than me. Hell, my mom probably had sexier underwear.

But that didn't really matter as Fang's mouth traced a heated path down my neck. My hands skated across his back, reveling in the warmth and solid presence that was Fang. My already uneven breath caught in my throat as his mouth reached my collarbone at the same time his fingers were playing with the clasp of my bra, teetering on one hook since I had been too lazy to attach it properly this morning. It stayed shut perfectly well that way, after all. That was, unless someone's fingers were fiddling with it as temptingly as Fang's were…

Who knew what might have happened if my hands hadn't finished exploring his back and were brushing around his stomach to find his chest again? Because if I hadn't accidentally touched the hard edges of the mysterious scar on his stomach that I had completely forgotten about, I'm not sure what would have come next.

But I did, and Fang jerked away from me faster than I would've thought possible, his eyes slightly wild as he stared into mine. I fell backward, dislodged by his sudden movement and just barely managing to reach out and catch the floor with a palm and a half before I made its rather rough acquaintance again.

"Fang?" I finally asked, my voice quiet so not to somehow startle him so badly again. I was completely unsure what to do as we stared silently at each other, breathing hard for what I assumed must have been completely different reasons.

Fang just stared at me for a moment, clearly trying to collect himself, before shaking his head slightly and blinking hard. "I'm sorry, Max," he breathed, reaching forward to help me off the floor. "I just… don't like being touched on my stomach."

"On your stomach?" I echoed, and we both heard the silent question I was really asking: _You mean on that weird-ass scar you refused to tell me anything about that one night we went swimming at Nudge's house and I tried to ask about it and you flipped out then too, right?_

He chose to answer the first, spoken question though. "Yeah," he said shortly, averting his eyes from mine. He kept one hand at the base of my back, the other hand resting in between us in what was clearly a barrier between my touch and that strange, forbidden scar of his. "I didn't mean to knock you off like that."

"It's okay," I heard myself say automatically. I just stared at him, all of my previously warm and blurry thoughts slowing back into focus again. What was he hiding that made him react so badly to anything to do with that scar? "I just… I guess I hope you know that you can trust me," I finished quietly, trying to make him look at me again. His eyes stayed fixed on his abandoned math textbook, laying completely uninterestingly on the floor a couple feet away.

I waited for a moment, but he made no response. A surge of disappointment crashed through me, and suddenly I couldn't stay touching him any longer at that moment. "Or maybe you don't trust me as much as I thought," I murmured, shifting to get off his lap. Fang's eyes snapped back to mine, and I had to push his hand off my back as he tried to keep me seated.

"No, Max, that's not it," he tried to argue. "I do trust you."

"Really?" I asked, sliding successfully out of his grasp. I didn't feel very pleased with my success though, but instead kind of cold and sad. I reached over and grabbed my shirt, then turned to look at him again. "Because I told you one of the very worst things about myself. I told you about what a monster of a kid I was. I told you about nearly murdering another person by accident. I told you about _Mike_." My voice cracked on his name, but I refused to stop, clutching the fabric of my shirt in my hands like a lifeline. "And you won't tell me where you got your scar?"

He stared at me, a painfully desperate look in his dark eyes. They looked blacker than they ever had before. There was almost no distinction between the iris and pupil in each. It made him look almost like a frightened animal.

"My scars may not be as visible as that," I gestured toward his stomach, and even that made him flinch. I tried not to care too much about that, pushing onward. "But I told you the whole story of my worst one. So forgive me if it hurts that you can't trust me enough to do the same."

I started putting my shirt over my head, but before it had gotten over my elbows Fang had moved to grab my arms, lowering them between us as he stared at me with the most earnest face I had ever seen him wear. "You have to understand, Max," he said quietly, his voice deep with a pain and far away quality that almost hurt to listen to. "I've never told anyone about this. Not Iggy, or Gazzy, or Nudge. Not even my parents know the whole story."

I watched him for a moment, trying to gauge the amount of emotion he was suppressing at that moment. If he was showing this much pain, clearly involuntarily, he must be waging an internal war to keep everything else under control.

I let him lower my arms, my shirt falling off to pool around my hands. I watched without resisting as he tugged it gently off and knelt beside me. Close, but not touching anymore.

"I tried to understand," I told him, trying to sound gentle. "I didn't ask again after the first time. But it scares me, Fang. No freshman boy living a perfectly normal life has a scar like that across his stomach, or emotions tied to that scar so harsh that they trigger reactions like yours. It _scares_ me. I'm scared about what the _hell _could have happened to you." I stared into his eyes, reaching out and pushing his chin back when he tried to look away again. "No, don't avoid this," I ordered. "I'm the one who runs away. You're stronger than me."

"I'm stronger than you?" Now it was Fang's turn to echo in disbelief. "Where the hell did you get that idea from?"

I just stared back at him. "Umm, excuse me?" I replied, momentarily distracted. "Of course you are. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. And you know it's not easy for me to admit someone's better than me at anything. But you are better than me at being strong in every way."

Fang didn't appear to have an immediate answer to that. He just scrutinized me with those black eyes of his, and I was sharply reminded from the pressure of his gaze that I still wasn't wearing a shirt. I felt instantly exposed, torn between the heat flashing between us and the desire to run and hide from this half-naked confrontation.

"I am not half as strong as you, Maximum Ride, in any way," Fang informed me, his voice even deeper and more serious than before, only an undercurrent of unease betraying that he was still shaken. I couldn't help but shiver at the sound.

"Oh yeah?" Yeah, that was my brilliant retort.

"Yes," he answered simply. When he didn't appear to be about to expand on that, I opened my mouth, even though I wasn't exactly sure what I was about to say. Fang cut me off though, a flash of annoyance crossing his face for a split second. "Max, you can't argue," he said, sounding almost irritated. "You've moved how many times? And managed to adapt and create a new life how many times? Had how many people crush your trust underfoot? Picked yourself up and kept going as your own person how many times? Taken how much care of your little sister? You taught her an entire _year's_ worth of material so she could be in the same grade as you!" Fang's voice had been steadily rising until it reached a volume I had never heard from him in conversation. He was dead serious.

Unfortunately for him, so was I.

"Oh yeah?" I repeated, my own temper flaring a little. "I've had my mom and my sister through everything, supporting me. Other people shouldn't have the power to change who I am, no matter how much they hurt me, purposely or not. And Ella is the genius for that, not me." I narrowed my eyes at him, reaching out and shoving him backward, just hard enough to catch him off guard so he fell back on the bean bag. I rose onto my knees, fisting my hands as I started picking up steam. "And what about you?"

"What about me?" Fang shot back. He had recovered his composure remarkably quickly after his unexpected fall, and was now glaring up at me again.

I ignored his interruption. "You're strong on the outside, physically and mentally holding up above average skills and personality. You're strong emotionally to deal with all of the crap that I throw at you."

"That's different," Fang argued. "I'm a reserved person, and I'm lucky to have talents that I can work on to improve. And I love you."

I tried not to let myself be swayed by the way he said the last part, but I couldn't help the shiver that sprinted down my spine. I kept going, though. "And you just said you haven't told anyone about this secret. Not your friends, not your family. It's totally on you, and it's clearly a heavy load to bear if you flip out so easily at it being touched, literally and figuratively. You are so damn strong, I don't even know how you keep up that mask of yours."

Fang was silent this time. He turned his face away, staring vacantly off somewhere in the area of my bed.

I softened a little when I saw the way his shoulders were trembling, just the tiniest bit. "Let me _help_ you, Fang," I pleaded, my voice cracking as I said his name. My hands unclenched out of the fists they had formed, and I released the tension in my arms as I waited.

Fang took a deep breath, still not meeting my eyes.

"Fang?" I whispered.

Still nothing.

I breathed in and out, trying to mentally compel him to respond. Nothing.

"Fang?" I repeated, my voice still the same volume. "I love you too."

He visibly flinched, turning his head slowly to look at me. The expression on his face was like nothing I had ever seen there before: small, lonely, afraid. Things that Fang never was. "Come here," Fang whispered back, his voice broken as he held out his hands out to me. I watched his fingers tremble, and the last of the frustration drained out of my system instantly. He was letting his guard down.

I scooted slowly closer, reaching to take his hands in mine. Even trembling, his hands were still warm and firm and felt like safety. I watched them, olive skinned fingers linked with my lighter toned ones. He pulled me gently closer until I was kneeling in front of where he sat on the bean bag, and took a deep breath. I watched his chest rise and fall for a moment, before my attention returned to our hands as he continued to pull them closer to himself. We both flinched a little as he pressed my fingertips lightly against an edge of his scar.

He seemed to hesitate, all the muscles in his shoulders, arms and torso tensing up again. I looked back up into his eyes, which were locked on my face. "I love you," I said simply, squeezing his hands lightly.

It helped a little. His arms and shoulders relaxed, although he couldn't seem to release all of the tension he was harboring as he pressed my left palm flat against his scar. The hard ridges of the oddly angled mark were a complete contrast to the clear skin of the rest of Fang's torso, and just knowing how vulnerable those simple marks had caused him to be made me want to smooth them away.

I tightened my grip on his other hand, rubbing my thumb over his hand in an attempt to keep him calm. He released a long, shuddering breath, closing his eyes and trying to inhale smoothly again. I slowly spread my hand out to cover the main body of the scar, his hand still on top of mine, holding it against his body. I leaned forward on my knees, tucking my head onto his shoulder for a moment as he struggled to breathe steadily again.

Fang only let me stay like that for about ten seconds, then he roughly reached around me and yanked me off the floor and back into his lap. In any other circumstances I would've protested loudly and vehemently at his blatant manhandling, but right now I let him pull me closer, not making a peep as he wrapped his arms around my bare back and buried his face in my neck. He needed to be weak right now without me pulling out the trademark Max snark and ruining the moment, also trademark Max style.

"They beat us up," Fang mumbled into my hair, his voice almost unrecognizable in tone. It sounded so helpless, so lost, so unlike the voice of the confident, quietly put together Fang I knew. "So badly that I could barely think anymore. They blinded Iggy. They ripped my stomach open. They… I…" His voice shook, and I reached up to tangle my hand in his long hair, trying to soothe him as I cradled his head and stroked the silky strands between my fingers. "We were just walking in the park," he whispered, his voice a little stronger than before. "We were kids. Just playing soccer and goofing off on a Saturday afternoon. And they jumped us, crippled Iggy, almost gutted me. I somehow… I somehow managed to fight back. It was like an adrenaline rush all of a sudden, and I knocked a couple of them out. But there were four more holding Iggy down and b-blinding him-" he choked again for a moment, then kept going, "-and I tried to fight them all. I don't know how I managed to get rid of them, honestly. I was just a kid, and they were grown, armed men. But somehow they all ended up on the ground, and Iggy was lying on the ground with his hands over his eyes…"

"That was where this came from?" I whispered slowly, the fingers of my left hand smoothing over the scar again as he trailed off.

"Yes," Fang whispered back, almost indiscernible from his mouth being pressed against my shoulder. "But that's only the part that I've told everyone who had to hear a story about what happened. It's not everything."

"Do you want to tell me everything?" I asked quietly. I continued to stroke his hair, not wanting to push anything out of him in this alien, fragile state but also wanting to know the truth. The whole truth.

Fang was quiet again, to the point where I thought he wouldn't answer again. We just sat there like that, me running my fingers through his hair and gently across the scar had brought him so much turmoil. Quiet, together, waiting patiently. He made me patient, for once in my life, to hear something that I wanted to hear. I could have given him all the time in the world at that moment, just because I cared that much about him.

Not gonna lie, that was completely out of character for me and more than a little alarming to realize, but I brushed it off as much as I could. This was Fang's time. It wasn't the moment for me to freak out over some dumb self-revelation like the apparent shift in my personality because of the boy who was currently holding me like he might break if he let go. Even if I wasn't used to letting people have that kind of power over me… even if it was a terrifying concept to even consider… now was not the time.

I felt his lips move against my neck, and he took another long, shuddering breath. Before he could say a word though, the sound of the front door creaking open echoed upstairs, accompanied by Ella's cheerful greeting yell of, "We have secured the goods!"

Fang and I jerked instantly apart, staring at each other in panic as we realized the consequences of Ella possibly bursting in on us at this admittedly suspicious-looking moment. "Dammit," I breathed, struggling out of Fang's lap in a mess of tangled limbs and mixed communications. I hit the floor with a painful smack on my elbow and back, the wood cold against my skin as I scrambled for the shirt that Fang had discarded from my body.

It was at this moment that I discovered it is never harder to tell the arm hole from the neck hole of a tank top than when you are frantically trying to clothe yourself before your little sister stumbles in on you and your boyfriend half naked.

Fang, however, didn't seem to have this problem. His shirt was on in less than eight seconds, and in a flash he was kneeling at my side struggling to fix my failure of an attempt to put on my own. "Max, how did you even do this?" he hissed, yanking my arm out of the neck hole and trying to guide it into the proper place. "Are you two years old or something?"

I gave up on all hope of dressing myself, simply letting Fang do it for me as I listened to Ella's footsteps pounding ominously up the staircase. "You know I'm bad at doing simple things!" I hissed back, scrunching my nose as he shoved the top of my shirt down over my head. "Watch the hair! I'm vain," I whined.

"Shut up," Fang growled back. His irritated tone of voice, however, was greatly contrasted by the gentle hand he smoothed through the wisps of hair escaping my ponytail.

"Act natural," I ordered him, although I couldn't help but smile as I carefully removed his hand from my hair. Fang rolled his eyes and flopped back down on a bean bag, snatching a pencil and a notebook from the previously abandoned warzone and beginning to scribble intently away. I lunged for my history textbook, flipping it open to a page at random and sprawling out near Fang's elbow just as my door swung wide open.

I have to say, the bored expressions on both my own and Fang's faces were grade A acting material. "Sup, Ells?" I offered, flipping a page in my textbook, glancing up at her from where I lay.

Ella surveyed the mess of scattered books and school supplies on my floor, raising her eyebrows for a moment before deciding to brush it off as normal Max activity. "Just wanted to let you know that the pizza's here," she replied, smiling again. "Mom and I decided to get three this time just in case you guys randomly declared another eating contest and decimated our dinners."

I snorted. "That was one time," I informed her coolly. "And it was only because Fang is a rude son of a-"

"Pizza sounds good," Fang cut me off, kicking me lightly in the thigh. He started getting up off the bean bag, laying the notebook to the side.

"Sweet, it's all ready when you are," Ella said, grinning. She started to leave, but at the last second turned with her hand on the doorframe, a mischievous smile sneaking over her face that instantly made me wary. "Oh, and Max?"

"Yeah?" I asked suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at the too innocent tone of her voice.

She glanced over her shoulder back toward the staircase, then back at me. "You might wanna turn your shirt the right way before you go downstairs, or Mom might get the right- I mean, _wrong_ idea about what exactly you and Fang were studying while we were gone."

My mouth dropped open as I couldn't help but look down at my tank top. Sure enough, it was inside out. I looked instantly at Fang, who had retreated instantly behind his unreadable mask at Ella's remark to try to avoid the brunt of the humiliation at her amusement.

"Dammit Fang, and you said I had the dressing abilities of a two year old!" I snapped. He simply raised an eyebrow at me in response, and I groaned back.

Ella just laughed, closing the door behind her as she retreated from us ridiculous human beings.

I sighed, lifting the hem of my shirt over my head again. It didn't even really bother me anymore that Fang was still in the room as I changed. "So much for fooling Ella," I mumbled. I worked the material of the tank top in my hands, trying to turn it back the right way again.

Fang's hand covered mine, instantly making me look up again. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes boring into mine, dead serious.

"What?" It took me a moment before I realized what he was talking about. "Oh." We sat there, staring at each other, our fingers tangled in the blue cloth clutched in my hands. "I'll listen any time you feel like you're ready to talk," I murmured, holding his gaze as reached up to touch his cheek. "I'm here."

Fang just stared back at me, expressionless as usual, his mask fully in place. "Thank you," he replied, the monotone of his voice not betraying any emotion on the surface.

But I knew that he was just trying to keep control. I knew how that felt, all too well.

So I smiled, looking back down at my shirt and finishing turning it back the right way. I shook it out to pull back over my head, but right before I could lift it Fang reached out to touch my side, his fingers brushing my ribs and thumb trailing over my stomach. His touch sent lightning through my system, and I couldn't help but shiver.

"You really can't know…" he murmured, his eyes sweeping my body until they locked back in on my eyes. We both heard the unspoken words to finish the sentence, repeated from earlier:

_How beautiful you are._

So as I finished fixing my shirt and we stood up to walk downstairs, hands linked between us, I didn't even care anymore about missing the Lynxes game tomorrow, or my petty jealousy of Ella being game ready while I wasn't, or even any of the crap with Max II and Terra. For now, I was with Fang. He trusted me. He loved me. And that was all I needed right now. Yesterday may have sucked hardcore. And tomorrow might suck even more. Hell, there was a 95 percent chance that it was bound to suck even more.

But today was good.

**Ayyy… I missed writing fanfic (: more than one person asked for more Fax cuz it's been fairly light in recent chapters, so I figured this was a good way to do that whilst simultaneously actually moving the plot along? (: somewhat?**

**And hehe tbh I don't care if it wasn't because this made me happy. =D did it make anyone else happy? Let me know! And everyone have happy feel-good feels, mmkay~**

**~TMI~**


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